


You Looking at Me Looking at You

by ArgentSleeper



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 04:23:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2296511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentSleeper/pseuds/ArgentSleeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Merlin once again fails to show up for work, Arthur goes to Gaius and fires his servant, this time he swears for good. Later that day, however, he makes a startling discovery. Merlin has been enchanted into a reflection in his mirror, and only when Arthur is around can he be seen or heard. With no idea how it happened or how to get him out, Arthur must attempt to ferret out the sorcerer. But between Morgana, Agravaine, and his most recent noble guests, there are too many traitors to choose from. As time goes on, however, Arthur starts to wonder if the biggest traitor is the one looking back at him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Looking at Me Looking at You

**Author's Note:**

> So, technically this is my ACBB piece. However, due to a personal tragedy, I was not able to bring myself to finish rewriting certain scenes. I decided since the removal of the scene in question did not detract from the rest of the fic, I was going to simply take it out rather than agonize over it anymore. Unfortunately taking it out meant the story was under the 25k requirement. But my mental health comes first, so this is what you get. The deleted section may be posted at a later date as a supplemental chapter, but we'll see how it goes.
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> Anyway, on a happier note, I want to thank my artist, ko-no-yo, for their amazing artwork. Seriously, it's just awesome, and I'm so sorry I couldn't post on time for you! Also a huge thanks to my beta, SoneaSelene, for going above and beyond with feedback, including letting me know that the deleted scene was absolutely ridiculous and a travesty to the name of writing (okay, maybe I'm paraphrasing) and saving me from making a fool of myself, then giving me a bunch of great tips on how to improve it that unfortunately I never got to use (but one day I will!). Lastly a thank you and apology to the ACBB mods for hosting the fest. Sorry I couldn't finish like I wanted to.
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> (P.S. Also thanks to my glassblower parents who will hopefully never ever read this or know it exists for unknowingly inspiring the idea behind this plot. Sorry I disgraced you by breaking every rule about glass ever created.)

 

 

His room was still pleasantly dim when Arthur opened his eyes that morning.  With a contented sigh the king burrowed his head into his pillow and relaxed back into a half-sleep state.  This was his favourite part of the day, when there were no responsibilities, no expectations.  And more often than not he got to hold on to it for a good bit longer than most kings would, all because he kept around a lazy servant.

 

Not that he would ever tell Merlin.  In fact, in the early days of Merlin’s employment, Arthur was torn between worry that encouraging Merlin’s ineptitude would only serve to make him more useless and worry that chastising him would put an end to his extended lie-ins.  Of course, he needn’t have worried at all.  After the first month or so Arthur realized that nothing short of a threat of death would make his servant change, so he could berate in full force.

 

Though the drapes were closed, enough of a gap was present that Arthur could tell the sun had risen, and any moment Merlin would be bursting in to drag him out of bed.  All the more reason to try his hardest to get a few more minutes of shut-eye.  He needed all the rest he could get to put up with the idiot’s morning routine.  Anyone who could be that cheerful moments after waking up deserved to be hung, in Arthur’s opinion.

 

That was something he _did_ tell Merlin.  Sadly, in that case the threat had no effect.

 

More sleep time had become even more necessary lately, when he had hardly been getting any at all.  Confliction about Guinevere and her banishment loomed large in his mind.  He shouldn’t have done it.  He knew he shouldn’t have done it.  But she shouldn’t have betrayed him, either.  That it was so easy for her, drifting after only a few days temptation, twisted at his heart.  Perhaps it was better this way.  They would both have space to recover and move on.

 

Some time later, Arthur felt his eyes opening again, this time not because he was fully rested but because there was an incessant knocking on his door.  He groaned in his pillow.  He hated the days when crown business came to find him before Merlin did.  It was so much nicer to start the morning with a good meal and a verbal spar than bad news about some evil creature or devastating plague.

 

“Enter.”

 

Leon poked his head in door.  Despite only a quarter of his body being in view, it was clear he was uneasy.  “Um, sire?  Are you unwell?”

 

Arthur heaved an internal sigh and prepared to haul himself upright, steeling himself for whatever storm of controversy had reared its head today.  “No, of course not, Leon.  What is it?”

 

Oddly this did not serve to make the knight relax.  Surely it was better that Arthur was hale and healthy to go about his duties.  “You missed the morning drill.  The other knights and I were concerned.”

 

Arthur bolted upwards so quickly he nearly gave himself whiplash.  “ _What_?  What time is it?”

 

“Just before midday, my lord.”

 

“ _MIDDAY? MERLIN!_ ”

 

Arthur flung aside his covers and leapt out of bed.  Ignoring Leon’s stammered apologies or explanations or whatever he was trying to say, he stalked through the corridors.  Servants and knights alike skittered out of his way as he stormed past.  When he got his hands on that pathetic excuse for a servant, he was going to wring his bloody twiggy neck until it snapped and then he would put it back together and do it again.

 

He experienced a brief flash of disappointment to find the door to the physician’s chambers already open.  Instead he satisfied his need to smash something by kicking over a bench on the way by.  “ _Where is he?_ ”

 

Gaius sputtered in indignation.  “ _Arthur!_   What _are_ you doing?”

 

“Where is that useless toad?”

 

“Merlin?  I would assume he’s wherever you assigned him to be for the day.”

 

Finding Merlin’s room empty except for the deplorable mess, Arthur beat a fist into the wall.  Unsurprisingly, it didn’t help.

 

“Calm yourself, sire!”  Gaius admonished, frown deepening.  He didn’t even twitch to help as the king cradled his aching hand.

 

“I didn’t _assign_ him to be anywhere,” Arthur spat through gritted teeth.  “I _couldn’t_ because the _idiot never showed up._ ”

 

Gaius’s expression went from disapproval to concern.  “He wasn’t here when I went to wake him this morning.  I assumed he had already left to fetch you your breakfast.  It’s uncommon for him to be up before me, but it’s certainly not unheard of.”

 

“You’re covering for him, aren’t you?  He spent the night in the tavern and is sleeping off his aching head in one of the guest chambers.”  Arthur cut off Gaius’s protest with a hand.  “This is the last straw.  We have _guests_.  If they aren’t already horribly offended by my jilting them this morning, the fact that I have to waste my afternoon tracking down layabouts will certainly do it.  When Merlin finally drags himself back to the land of the living, you can tell him he’s fired.  He’s free to continue living with you and being your apprentice if he so chooses, but I cannot put up with this anymore.”

 

“Arthur-”

 

He left before he could start screaming again.

 

The rest of the morning was spent not tracking down his servant – _former_ servant- but apologizing to his most recent noble guests, Count Jaxom and his daughter Millicent.  Jaxom was some distant relative of his father’s, out of favour with the crown since long before his parents even married.  The count had been trying to wrangle an invitation to Camelot since Uther’s death, hoping to weasel his way back into good graces.  Personally Arthur thought it wasn’t going well.  Lady Millicent was nice enough, following her father quietly around like a shadow, but it was clear that with the news of Arthur’s failed engagement Jaxom was trying to use her to fill the space in Arthur’s heart.  He could have told them it was pointless.  But since Jaxom’s lands were in the middle of a crucial trade route, having the count on his side was too important to turn him down flat.

 

Three hours of negotiation and an awkward midday later, Arthur returned to collapse at his table.  He still had a council meeting to discuss the crop distribution, Agravaine would probably be by to berate him for his absence earlier in the morning, and there were the preparations for the treaty negotiations with Nemeth at some point.  He wasn’t sure when those were supposed to be because he was supposed to have someone to remember that for him and that someone still hadn’t shown up.

 

If it was anyone else Arthur wouldn’t expect them to after he’d fired them in such a spectacular fashion.  However, this was _Merlin_ , and Merlin never did anything the way other people did.  Not to mention Merlin actually _liked_ his job, no matter how loudly he complained about it.

 

And Arthur liked Merlin doing it, no matter how loudly he complained about his incompetency.

 

But Merlin wasn’t waiting for him in his chambers, and he hadn’t brought the food out when he had midday with his guests and nothing in the room looked like it had been cleaned up by a repentant manservant.  With a disappointed sigh, Arthur heaved himself up to go to his desk and start penning a letter searching for a new servant.

 

As he passed his mirror, movement caught his eye and he paused to look more closely.  A familiar face stood behind him.  Arthur whirled around with a cry.  “Merlin!”

 

The room was empty.

 

Frowning, Arthur turned back to the mirror.  If not a person, what had he seen?

 

Merlin walked closer to him in the mirror.  No, he couldn’t walk closer, because _Arthur wasn’t in the mirror_.  The king stumbled backward.  Okay, there had to be a reasonable explanation for why he no longer had a reflection.  Or, more accurately, why his reflection had turned into his manservant.

 

Merlin’s mouth was opening and closing, arms gesticulating wildly as if he were saying something, possibly an explanation for why it appeared as if Arthur had lost his mind.  Which was a distinct possibility at this point.  He closed his eyes for a few seconds, taking deep breaths.  It was the stress.  Yes, definitely the stress.  Guinevere and Jaxom and Merlin were all cluttering his brain and the only defence mechanism it could come up with was for him to start hallucinating.  He should go see Gaius.  Gaius would know what to do.

 

When he opened his eyes again, Merlin was still there, practically on top of him now.  The words on his lips were easier to make out now.  He seemed to be shouting Arthur’s name over and over.

 

“Why couldn’t it be Guinevere?  Or my mother?  Why, of all the people I could hallucinate, does it have to be you?”

 

Merlin started his silent ranting again, the only words Arthur was able to catch were “Arthur, I’m real!”  He didn’t try too hard to figure out any of the others, since he was quite sure several of them were probably disparaging terms made up in Merlin’s odd brain.

 

“I’m being punished for sacking you this morning, aren’t I?  Well, that’s too bad.  You’re still fired.  Obviously real you accepts that better than fake you, since you haven’t come to try to grovel yet.”

 

Fake Merlin frowned, but seemed to have figured out Arthur couldn’t hear him –a phrase about small blessings came to mind.

 

“Or perhaps this is a dream.  My subconscious is so used to you being useless that it has constructed a scenario in which you forget to wake me up and then sticks you in a mirror because… well… because that’s what happens in dreams.”

 

Arthur nodded, proud at his ability to reason logically even in his sleep state.  Dream Merlin just rolled his eyes, though, and shook his head, mouthing deliberately, “Not a dream.”

 

“Well that brings us back to hallucination.  Do you really want to be a hallucination?”  Probably it wasn’t a good idea to be treating his mental breakdown so flippantly, but any other reaction courted disaster.  “Although I suppose you’re right.  I remember something about not feeling pain in dreams, and this headache would certainly be considered _pain_.”  Fake/Dream Merlin rolled his eyes again.

 

“Right, in that case we’d best start taking some precautions.  The best way to rid yourself of a hallucination is to ignore it.  So I’ll have to just pretend you aren’t even there.  No, Merlin, please don’t pout.  You know I can’t stand it when you’re upset.”

 

Mirror Merlin flashed a brief grin that stated he _hadn’t_ known this, but now planned to utilize this knowledge every chance he got.

 

“I’m the king of Camelot.  I can’t been seen standing here talking to myself in the mirror as if it can talk back.  Especially if Real You ever decides to show up.  You’d never let me live it down.”  Another tiny grin, but Mirror Merlin still looked far too upset and worried for Arthur’s tastes.  “It’s what’s best for everyone, really.  But if it means that much to you, I’ll turn the mirror to face the desk, how ‘bout that?  Then you can at least pretend I’m acknowledging you.”

 

Mirror Merlin shrugged unhappily.  He started mouthing words again, again probably some vile insults that Arthur wouldn’t pay attention to him, but Arthur was pleased at his compromise.

 

The mirror wasn’t attached to the wall, merely resting on an end table, so it wasn’t hard to move.  Arthur never had, because contrary to popular opinion he wasn’t _that_ vain, but for some reason he’d always had the option.  Unfortunately, he did know that the large frame was much heavier than it looked.  Grabbing it carefully by both sides, he made to tilt it sideways.

 

“-body else would have been like ‘Gee, Merlin didn’t show up for work today, and now he’s _magically_ in my mirror.  I wonder if that’s significant in any way.  Nope, must not be, obviously it’s just a coincidence, let’s fire him and ignore any attempts he might make to get me to realize I’m being complete and utter _cabbage head_.”

 

Arthur rolled his eyes.  “Great,” he muttered.  “You know this ignoring thing was a whole lot easier when I didn’t have to listen to your drivel.”

 

“You don’t _deserve_ for it to be easy –wait, you can hear me?”  Upset was replaced by hope, which filled Arthur inexplicably with a drop of happiness of his own.

 

He huffed, dragging the mirror another few degrees.  “Yes, _Mer_ lin, unfortunately I can.  See, this is what comes of indulging your hallucinations.  They start to think they can get away with anything.”

 

“I am _not a hallucination!_ ” Mirror Merlin shouted, tearing at his hair in frustration.  “Please, Arthur, you have to listen to me!  I’m really here.  Please, just go get Gaius, he’ll find a way to get me out of here.  And maybe him seeing me too will convince you that you’re not going mad.”

 

Or it would mean the entire castle would find out that their king had gone round the bend.  Some of them probably already suspected something of the sort.  It wasn’t like Arthur had been acting completely rationally lately, what with everything that had happened with Guinevere and the wedding and Elyan being possessed by child ghost and snapping at Merlin every time he breathed.  Well, that last bit wasn’t really _odd_ , but he was feeling worse about the frequency with which he did so lately.  The point was he couldn’t afford to look weak right now, and a lapse in mental health would certainly do so.

 

“Tell me something only Merlin and I would know.”

 

Merlin snorted.  “If I’m really a hallucination, wouldn’t I know the things you know anyway?”

 

By the gods, why did his hallucinations have to be so logical?  “Well… then- I don’t know, Merlin!  Be useful for once and think of something.”

 

“I don’t think I can, Arthur,” Merlin sighed.  “You’re just going to have to believe me.”

 

He paused.  Merlin was gazing glumly down at the ground as if he thought what he was asking was the most impossible of requests.  The sight pained him more than he would dare to admit.  “You’re really there?”

 

“I’m really, truly here and really, truly stuck.”  All remaining traces of hope vanished, and Arthur felt his heart sink again.  “Please, Arthur.  I need your help.”

 

“How on earth did you manage this?  Honestly, Merlin, I can’t leave you alone for five minutes without you getting in trouble!”

 

“I believe there’s a saying with a pot and a kettle, but I can’t remember how it goes.”

 

“Well, you must have done _something_ ,” Arthur insisted.  “No one just turns into a mirror because they ate a bad piece of fish.  Clearly you must have had a row with someone.  So just give me the name and I’ll make them undo this.”  Gods, he really was going mad, to be accepting this as real so easily.

 

“Gee, _sire_.  I never thought of telling you who was responsible.  It’s almost like _I don’t know how it happened_.”

 

“Come on, you expect me to believe that?  It’s not like sorcerers are subtle with all that incantation shouting and glowing eyes.  I understand if it’s someone you care about and want to protect, but obviously they have betrayed you and don’t deserve such loyalty.”  He ran through a list of people in his head that Merlin was friendly with.  He couldn’t imagine it was one of his knights, which meant it had to be another servant.  When Merlin had had time to become friendly with them Arthur didn’t know, because he was _supposed_ to be devoting his time to his king, but Merlin had never done what he was supposed to.

 

“Oh my _gods_.  How many times to do I have to say it?  _I don’t know!_ ”  Merlin was practically screaming by this point.  He dropped into a chair, and Arthur could see him struggling to catch his breath.  Arthur tried to put himself in Merlin’s boots, trapped by some unknown spell and unable to do anything but rely on others to save him.  Just the thought gave him shudders.

 

“Okay,” he said soothingly.  Merlin panicking would do none of them any good.  “Okay, I believe you.  You don’t know.  Let me go get Gaius, alright?”  Gaius would know what to do.  Somehow Gaius always knew what to do.  “Just wait here.”

 

“Yeah, like I can do anything else,” he grumbled.

 

Arthur made sure the mirror was stable before leaving.  Oh gods, he really did _not_ need to deal with this right now.  He didn’t need to deal with this _ever_.  Why was this happening, and why Merlin?  If a sorcerer was going to curse anyone, usually it would be him.  Who _was_ the sorcerer?  Someone at court?  Morgana?  The latter seemed most likely.  It even explained why the target was Merlin.  Morgana hated Merlin, perhaps even more than she did Arthur.  He had no idea why the animosity between them was so great, but he’d felt it even back when Morgana was still playing the loving ward.

 

With all these uncertainties, he didn’t really have a plan for how to proceed from here.  Arthur took a few deep breaths before opening the door to the physician’s quarters.  Gaius stood at one of his tables, swirling something around and frowning at the contents.  Or maybe it was just a carried over expression as he kept glancing towards Merlin’s room as if expecting his ward to suddenly appear in his bed.  Arthur felt even worse about his morning explosion now.  Gaius had probably been sick with worry upon hearing that Merlin had vanished.  Not that there wasn’t precedent for it or anything.  Merlin went missing all the time.  That’s why Arthur had gotten so upset, after all.  But still…

 

The physician looked over as Arthur came in, a slight deepening of the wrinkles of his forehead indicating that he was angry at the king for his outburst.  “Yes, sire?”  his tone was cold and dismissive.

 

“I…” he hesitated.  This wasn’t his strong suit.  “I wanted to say I apologize, first of all.  For… you know.  I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that.”

 

Gaius sighed.  “I know this isn’t the first time Merlin hasn’t shown up for work, sire, but please, you have to understand, the boy truly is completely devoted to you.  It’s just-”

 

“It’s fine, Gaius, really.”  Arthur wanted to tell him Merlin could have his job back, had honestly never truly lost it, no matter what he said to Gaius or himself, even before he found out it wasn’t –entirely- Merlin’s fault, but it didn’t feel so important right now.  “I actually have something else I need to discuss with you.  It’s just, um, it would be better if we were in my chambers.  It’s less… _complicated_ that way.”

 

Gaius raised an eyebrow.  “It’s less complicated for you to traverse the castle to fetch me to traipse all the way back with you?  Arthur, I’m not a young man anymore.  Whatever you need, surely we can do it here.  Otherwise why would you not simply send someone for me?”

 

“It’s a sensitive matter…” _I wasn’t sure you would come_.  He wasn’t sure Gaius would come now, apology or no.  It was time to lay down his trump card.  “It’s about Merlin.  He’s waiting for us there.”

 

“Merlin?”  He perked up immediately.  “You found him?  Is he alright?”  Gaius started packing his things, throwing anything he thought he might potentially need in his medicine bag.

 

“He’s… not hurt.  I don’t think.”

 

Gaius paused.  “You don’t _think_?  Did you not _ask_?”

 

“I-I did…”  Did he?  Perhaps he hadn’t, so preoccupied with trying to figure out whether it was really happening or not.  “It’s just… you need to see for yourself.”

 

That only seemed to worry the physician more and he hurried along beside Arthur through the corridors.  Leon passed them by the armoury.  “Did you find Merlin yet?”  Arthur just shook his head, finding he didn’t have to force the scowl.  Gaius glanced sidelong at his denial and picked up his pace.

 

“Did he tell you anything about where he was this morning?” Gaius puffed.

 

“He didn’t exactly need to.  Let’s just say it was fairly self-evident.”

 

Gaius pushed in front of him to enter his chambers first.  Of course, he found them empty.  “Sire, what-”

 

Arthur made sure the door was closed and locked.  “I’m sorry, Gaius.  You’re going to think I’m going mad.  Maybe I am, though Merlin assures me I’m not, although his opinion doesn’t count for much at the moment considering he’s my potential hallucination, but…” he trailed off.  Perhaps he wasn’t really helping his case here from the way Gaius was staring at him, concern deep in his eyes.  “Let me just… let me show you.”

 

Arthur walked over to the mirror, nerves twisting until he saw that yes, Merlin was still there, sitting slumped in the chair where he’d left him.  Every line of his body was traced with distress.  He looked up as the king came closer, leaping to his feet.  He said something, but no voice accompanied it once more.  Merlin’s face fell when Arthur didn’t respond, and he dropped back into his chair, bringing his knees up to his chest and curling up into a ball.

 

“I can’t hear you again, Merlin, I’m sorry.  But look, I brought Gaius, just like I promised.”  Gaius whose concern was morphing quickly into alarm as he watched his king talking to his mirror.  “Gaius?”  Oh no, he really was going mad.

 

The physician inched over to him.  “Sire, perhaps you ought to lay down and rest for a while.  You’ve been under a lot of stress lately.  I promise, when I find Merlin I will send him right up to you.  I’m sure Sir Leon will be more than willing to let your guests kn- Merlin!”

 

Gaius startled back in much the same initial reaction as Arthur had had.  He whipped around, trying to place the reflection with its origin, but to no avail.  Merlin had jumped up again and advanced, babbling silently away at the sight of his mentor.

 

“How on earth… Oh my boy, how did this happen?”

 

Merlin rolled his eyes, and Arthur was quite certain he was ranting once more about how he didn’t have clue and would everyone stop asking him that already?

 

“Gaius, earlier… earlier before I came to get you I could hear him talking, just for a bit.  It’s like he can hear everything we say, but we can only hear now and then.”

 

Gaius was walking round the mirror now, inspecting it for who knew what.  Probably marks of sorcery, not that Arthur would know them if he saw them.  “Had you done anything specific at those times?  Or Merlin, perhaps?”

 

“I don’t think so…”  Arthur racked his brains. “I was mostly just accusing him not being real at the moment.”  That he _was_ real was both an enormous relief –Arthur had watched his own father go mad twice before he died, and it was not an experience he wished for himself –and a point of distress.  Sure, Merlin was real, but that meant he was _really_ in trouble.  And Arthur had no idea how to get him out of it.

 

Merlin was mouthing something again, and it seemed to be just three words over and over again.  Arthur concentrated on his lips, full and pinkish-red from where he’d been biting them, but while he could figure out the last two words “the mirror,” the first was just getting past him.  Merlin reached out a finger, pointing at something as he repeated just that first word now.

 

“ _Touch_.  _Touch the mirror._ ”

 

Arthur grabbed the frame.  “-ch the mirror.  Come on, just touch it, you clotpole.”

 

“Honestly, Merlin, just because I can’t hear you doesn’t mean you have leave to insult me.”

 

“Finally!  Well, maybe I wouldn’t have to insult you if you could figure things out for yourself once in a while.”

 

“I figure out plenty of things, _Merlin_.  And you had best watch your tongue, I could just-”

 

“ _Excuse_ _me, gentlemen_ ,” Gaius interrupted.  “If we could?”

 

Both men ducked their heads ashamedly.  “Sorry.”

 

“Right.  Now, Merlin, if you could tell me everything you remember leading up to now.”

 

Merlin started to pace, as if the movement would jog his memory.  “I served Arthur at the feast last night with the count and his daughter, and then I came back in here to help prepare Arthur for bed because for all he can direct an entire army or negotiate with entire kingdoms he’s incapable of turning down his own bed or changing his own clothes.”  Arthur snorted in derision, but at Gaius’s glare didn’t interrupt.  “Then I went back to you, Gaius, and helped you grind the poppy we collected yesterday morning, then I went to bed and when I woke up, I was here watching Arthur sleep and ignoring me trying to get his attention.  I swear, that’s it.  I didn’t talk to anyone or annoy anyone or overhear any nefarious plots that would require getting me out of the way.”

 

“Not recently anyway,” Gaius muttered under his breath.  Arthur had a feeling he wasn’t supposed to hear that.

 

“What do I do, Gaius?” Merlin moaned.  “I can’t stay in here forever!  There’s got to be something in the book, ehm, in any of your books, that gives a counter-curse or a potion or something!”

 

“Have you tried escaping on your own?  There’s no… _exit_ you can think of?”

 

Merlin shook his head carefully.  “I tried… every time I even think of ‘get me out of here,’ nothing happens.”

 

Arthur snorted again.  “What, you thought you’d escape through the power of positive thinking?”

 

“ _No,_ ” Merlin shot back.  “I was just… never mind.  I tried the door too, but it’s like everything beyond it is just white mist.  In fact, it’s like everything that you can’t see from your side isn’t there.  When you turned the mirror earlier, Arthur, it brought more of the room into being and cut out everything on the other side.”

 

Arthur scratched his chin.  “So if I were to…” he went out of view of the mirror and grabbed the dagger from under his pillow.

 

“Wait, Arthur, he’s gone.”

 

Arthur ran back over.  No, Merlin was still there.  “What do you mean?”

 

Gaius frowned.  “When you walked away, it was like he vanished.  Here, try it again.”

 

Once more Arthur stepped out of range.  Then he stepped back, setting the dagger down on the desk.  In the mirror it was like the knife just floated into being, unattached to Arthur’s arm.  Merlin went to it immediately and picked it up.  The physical dagger on their side didn’t move.  Arthur grabbed the mirror frame again so he could speak.

 

“It’s just everything on your side exists on this side except you.  And when you don’t exist on that side, neither do I.”

 

“I wonder if it is the same with hearing you speak.  Arthur, let go and let me try.”  Arthur obeyed, and Gaius touched the mirror.  Merlin began speaking again, but sure enough, no sound came out.  The king and physician switched places again.

 

“What am I going to do?” Merlin wailed.  “Arthur can’t just stand in front of his mirror for the rest of our lives!”

 

“Relax, my boy, this isn’t a time to panic.”

 

“I’ve been turned into a _mirror,_ Gaius!  I can’t think of many _better_ times to panic!”

 

“We’ll figure something out.  Let me do some research.”

 

“And I’m going to do the groundwork,” Arthur said soothingly.  “We’ll find who did this to you, Merlin.  I’m going to get you out of there, I promise.”

 

Merlin sighed.  “And in the meantime I’m supposed to do what, twiddle my thumbs?”

 

“Well, it’s not like you would be doing anything more productive if you _weren’t_ stuck in a mirror.”  Merlin opened his mouth to snap something back, but Arthur let go, cutting him off.  “That’s rather useful, isn’t it?  Remind me to thank this sorcerer when we catch them.”  He ignored Merlin’s reproachful glare.  “There are other mirrors around.  Can you show up in one of them?  If so we’ll have to make sure no one accidently spots you.”

 

He went and rummaged in a drawer.  Then small hand mirror had been a gift from Morgana, who held the same belief as Merlin that Arthur was so full of himself he needed a way to admire himself all the time.  He thought they actually might have picked it out together.  Arthur brushed aside the thought before it could raise anything in his heart.  Making sure he was out of the sight line of the large mirror, he held up the smaller one.  “Merlin?  Merlin are you there?”

 

Like when Gaius had tried himself, Merlin didn’t appear.  Arthur went back across the room.  “So it’s just this one, then.  Why this mirror?  What good does it do to curse him only to make it so the king of Camelot is the only one who can communicate with him?”

 

“I don’t know, sire.  It doesn’t make sense.  But then, I didn’t even know it was possible until now.”

 

Arthur tapped his thumb on the dresser.  He hated to leave Merlin like this, but they weren’t going to figure out anything just standing around.  “We’ll meet back here before the evening meal.  Like Gaius said, relax, Merlin.  I’m not going to just leave you there.  I’ve got way too many chores that need to get done.”

 

That earned him a wan smile, an eye roll, and a mouthed “Thank you.”  Though he couldn’t hear the tone, the trust in Merlin’s eyes told Arthur it was more sincere than sarcastic.

 

Arthur just hoped it wouldn’t end in disappointment.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The first thing he did was inform his uncle that he would be unable to attend the council session that afternoon.  As expected, Agravaine was gravely upset with him for the perceived slight on their guests that morning caused by Arthur’s absence.  It took another twenty minutes to convince him all was not lost and that Arthur had sorted it all out himself.  Then of course Agravaine wanted to know _why_ Arthur was going to be missing the council meeting.  Luckily he had prepared his excuse.

 

“I’m going to dedicate this afternoon to Count Jaxom and Lady Millicent.  As an apology for this morning.  I thought it best to assure them all was well between us.”

 

“Of course, sire, that does seem like a wise choice.  But surely it would be a good idea to discuss such actions with your council first, or at least myself as your advisor?  Perhaps one of us should come with you, just in case you need any such advice.”

 

Arthur waved a hand in dismissal.  “I’m sure I can handle one measly afternoon.  There is a difference between relying on the advice of your council and depending entirely upon it.  I should hope I am the type of king who is strong enough to be able to do at least some things for himself.”  _Like dress yourself?_ Merlin’s snicker broke in.

 

Arthur shook it off.  Merlin should have come to understand by now that Arthur had to have _some_ excuse to keep him around.

 

Next he went to Leon.  Technically Arthur was supposed to take the count on short hunt tomorrow, but a sense of unease filled him when he thought about being that far away from the castle right now.  Perhaps Merlin wasn’t exactly a huge physical threat to anyone who might want to attack them, but he did have the ability to speak to Arthur at any time without needing to call for the court.  Trapping him in one place so that he could only be seen or heard when Arthur was directly there could certainly enable someone to sneak around more easily.

 

“Leon, I need you to take the knights around the edge of the city and through the lower town.  Ask if anyone has seen or heard anything suspicious lately.”

 

Leon frowned.  “Are we at risk of attack, sire?”

 

Arthur hesitated.  It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Leon.  He most certainly did, probably the most of any of his knights.  But the fewer people who knew about the current situation the better.  Arthur would take no risks with Merlin’s life.  He decided to build his bluff on the truth.  “Merlin hasn’t returned yet.  Gaius swears he was home and in bed last night, and unless he’s got a drinking problem no one has noticed yet, he didn’t leave at dawn to go to the tavern.”

 

“You think someone took him?”

 

“I’m saying I don’t know what happened, Leon.”  That was entirely the truth.  “It could be he decided to skive off work and frolic through a meadow.  But let’s just say I have a bad feeling that that is not the case.”

 

“Of course, sire.”  He bowed, his mouth thinning determinedly.  “You know we’d do anything for Merlin.”

 

Arthur did know that.  He wasn’t sure what it was about Merlin that inspired such loyalty in everyone, but he knew that somehow even he himself had been infected with the need to protect the clumsy serving boy.

 

Finally he was free to return to the count and his daughter.  Of all his potential suspects, they were at the top.  Not because they had done anything suspicious, merely because none of this had happened until after the two had shown up.  So far as Arthur knew they hadn’t shown any animosity towards Merlin, but perhaps something had happened that he didn’t know about, something perhaps that Merlin was even too frightened or just too forgetful to tell him.

 

After inquiring of the servants, he found his guests taking a stroll in the gardens.  Arthur held out an arm for Lady Millicent, loath as he was to give her father any ideas.  It was the chivalrous thing to do, after all, even if said lady had potentially cursed your manservant to life in a mirror.

 

“I hope you have been enjoying your stay, my lady.”

 

“Very much so, sire.  Camelot is beautiful.  I’m so glad to finally be able to see it in person.”

 

“Perhaps you will be able to come back again someday.”

 

Jaxom beamed at the words.  “That is a very generous offer, my lord.  We thank you for your consideration.  And perhaps you might come to visit Marshwood one day.  I’m sure Millie would be pleased to show you around.”

 

Honestly, could no one just come to visit because they wanted to see him?  Did everyone have to have an ulterior motive? Not that Arthur was above taking advantage.  “I was hoping you might accompany me on a short ride this afternoon, my lady.  So that we might get to know one another better.”

 

Jaxom looked practically beside himself with glee.  “She would love to, wouldn’t you, my dear?  I’m sure you two have a lot in common.”

 

Millicent blushed.  “Thank you, sire.  I would be pleased to accompany you.”

 

“Your maid is of course welcome to come as well.  I’m afraid my manservant is indisposed at the moment, but I’m sure another servant will be more than willing to take his place.”

 

“Oh dear, is he ill?  He was the one who showed us to our rooms.  Merlin, wasn’t it?  I do hope he feels better.”

 

Arthur forced a smile.  She seemed sincere in her pity, but he couldn’t be sure.  Sorcerers were masters of subterfuge.  And if the sorcerer was her father, she wouldn’t want to give him away.  That was why he needed to separate them.  Perhaps Millicent would be more willing to talk if he wasn’t around to know what she said.

 

“Of course, there will be plenty to entertain you as well, Count Jaxom.  My uncle, Lord Agravaine, would be more than willing to give you a tour of the history of our fair city.”  _After I ask him to_.  “Or perhaps you might wish to visit our extensive libraries.”  So long as he was under a watchful eye the entire time.

 

“A tour would be lovely, thank you.  I have always been a great patron of architecture.  At Marshwood we have some of the best archways in the land.”  He, too, sounded sincere in his enthusiasm, not the least bit worried that his daughter would be essentially alone with the king.  But that made Arthur trust him less, not more.

 

“Very good.  I will prepare for our outing then.  If you would meet me by the stables in one hour, my lady?”

 

The two bowed and nodded their assent.  Arthur walked away displeased despite the cordial nature of their exchange.  In his experience things were never so straightforward.  It was obvious Jaxom wanted Millicent to be Arthur’s wife, but not so obvious whether Millicent was okay with that herself.  Probably like most noble women she hadn’t even been giving an option of an opinion, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have one.  Resentment of being tossed at the king like a gift of chickens might lead someone to do something mad like turn people into mirrors.

 

It was too soon to check in with Gaius, though he did have a few whispered words with Gwaine as he passed.  Unsurprisingly, the knight was alarmed to hear something might have happened to Merlin.  “You don’t think it was the witch, do you?  Maybe she got upset that we got Gaius back and decided to go after Merlin instead.  She could be torturing him right now!”

 

“Relax, Gwaine.  I don’t think Merlin’s being tortured.”  At least he could be assured of that.  Merlin hadn’t mentioned he was injured, or being injured.  He was just… _stuck_.  “We don’t know what happened.  Leaping to conclusions won’t help anyone.”

 

“Okay, fine not conclusions, but… how about suspicions?  Suspicions are helpful, right?”

 

“If they are useful ones, yes.”

 

“Do we know for sure Merlin didn’t just take off on his own?”  He held up a hand to still Arthur’s protest.  “No, hear me out, princess.  You might not have noticed, but Merlin’s not been his usual cheery self lately.  Sure the last few months haven’t been easy, what with… _everything_ , but something’s been bothering him worse and worse.  I know you don’t want to hear it, because he told me what you did to him when he mentioned it, and don’t you even dare try to threaten me like that because it won’t work, but could he possibly have gone after Gwen?”

 

Arthur deflated from the reprimanding he was about to give for Gwaine’s insubordination.  Honestly, he wouldn’t have been surprised if Merlin had gone to be with Guinevere.  Guinevere was Merlin’s best friend.  Not even Elyan had been as torn when she was banished.  And when Merlin tried to talk to Arthur about her, what had Arthur done?  Threatened to banish him too.

 

And Gwaine was right, before Gwen had been the trouble with the Lamia that still no one would talk to him about, the trouble that had left Merlin avoiding the knights for three weeks afterwards.  And before that Gaius had been kidnapped, with Arthur condemning him as a traitor.  And before that Merlin had been injured and kidnapped himself during a bandit attack.  So yes, Gwaine was unfortunately right, Merlin had had an excruciating year.

 

However, Arthur also knew that it had nothing to do with Merlin’s current predicament.  “He would have said something to Gaius at least if he were running away like a coward,” he snapped.  “And if you’d seen Gaius today, you’d know that the old man doesn’t have any more of a clue than we do.  So it might be best you keep your _suspicions_ to yourself, Sir Gwaine.”

 

Arthur stalked away.  Maybe it wasn’t fair to yell at Gwaine, who was only worried about his friend, but to essentially _blame_ _Arthur_ for Merlin disappearing… it was madness.

 

His mood carried through as he brusquely gave orders for horses to be saddled for a ride around the wall.  He didn’t dare go far.  One of the stable boys was recruited to serve him while they were out.  Arthur wasn’t in the mood to deal with George right now.  At least Agravaine looked happy about his task for the afternoon.  He set off at once to track down the count and take him around the citadel.

 

Arthur thought to stop in and check on Merlin, but what point was there in that?  He had no solution, no real suspects.  What point was there other than to ask “Are you really so upset with me you might leave?”

 

He didn’t think he wanted the answer to that.

 

Lady Millicent met him at the stable at the appointed time.  She had changed into breeches, the kind Guinevere used to wear whenever she would go riding.  Right.  Not thinking about Guinevere right now.  Even though Millicent wasn’t likely to be his future fiancée, it was probably best not to be thinking about his former fiancée while he was with her.

 

They set off for the path around the walls of the city, Arthur making polite small talk while they were still around the crowds of villagers.  Millicent continued to reply politely, only occasionally interjecting an opinion of her own.  He supposed it wouldn’t be entirely terrible to be married to her.  They would certainly have a quiet life, with quiet, well-behaved children.

 

And Arthur would be bored out of his mind.  He needed strong-willed people in his life, like Guinevere had been.  Like Merlin was.

 

Okay, that was a weird thought.  Not thinking about Merlin right now either.  At least not in that context.

 

“My lady, I hope you don’t mind me asking , but- s”

 

“Millie.”

 

“What?”

 

“If we’re going to be discussing potentially uncomfortable topics, I would prefer if you would use my name.”

 

Arthur relaxed a bit.  He should know by now shy didn’t have to equal completely passive.  “Of course.  Millie.  I wanted to talk to you about your father.  I know he and my own father got into some kind of disagreement long ago.  I was never made privy to the details.  I wondered if you were.”

 

“I’m afraid not.  I know Father didn’t always agree with the way King Uther did things, gods bless his soul, but I never was told why he was cut off.”

 

“What kind of things did he disagree with?”  _Things like sorcery, perhaps?_   The Great Purge had been after their fight, but the kingdom hadn’t exactly ever been entirely welcome to magic users even before that.

 

She ducked her head.  “I don’t wish to get him in trouble…”

 

“Please, Millie… I only wish to know so that perhaps I might go about changing things for the better.  I’m not my father.  If there is a way I might do things that is different from his way but is for the greater good of all, I will not hesitate to make adjustments.”  He already had been, even before his father had died.  He had knighted commoners, defended villages technically outside his purview, risked his life to save that of his servant.  Allowed that servant to weasel his way into his heart so that for him to die would kill Arthur too.

 

“I know he wasn’t pleased about some of the taxes,” she finally relented.  “The grain tax is too high, though the one on textiles could be higher.  The, um, the punishment against sorcery, too.  Not that he condones it!” she corrected hurriedly, her eyes wide with fear.  “It’s just, my mother, she was a druid.  He was always afraid King Uther would hunt her down, and me for being her get.”

 

Millicent flinched away, obviously sharing the same fear that now Arthur would burn her for admitting such.  “We have recently made peace with the druids,” he assured her softly.  “I promise you your family is safe now.”

 

“It doesn’t bring my mother back.  Begging your highness’s pardon.”

 

So Arthur’s father had killed her mother.  Another strong motivation, for either of them.  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

 

“Me too.”

 

They rode in silence from there.  Arthur was afraid he had lost his chance to interrogate her further to see what she might be hiding.  Clearly the pain was still fresh in her mind, though Arthur had no idea when her mother had died.  If it was his father’s fault, it couldn’t have been in the past year or so.  After Morgana’s betrayal, Uther had been practically comatose and in no state to give orders even to look for her, let alone druids, and it hadn’t occurred to Arthur to do so, not when he knew it was purely Morgana and Morgause to blame.

 

The druids weren’t entirely blameless, of course, no matter their stance as pacifists or the peace that Arthur had recently struck.  They had kidnapped Morgana, after all, and once broke into the vaults to steal dangerous artefacts.  But that had been only a few renegade groups.  The children his father had sentenced to death over the years, like the child spirit that had possessed Elyan, had certainly never been at fault.  So far as he knew Millicent’s mother was in the same situation, but there was always the possibility she had plotted against the throne once upon a time.

 

Not that it would matter to Millicent or Jaxom.  Arthur’s own father had had many faults.  Many, _many_ faults.  But Arthur still loved him anyway, still wished he could have him back.  He was sure they felt the same.  If Odin were in front of him right now Arthur would have been spearing his head on a pike.  Uther may have already been dead, but Arthur had spent the last six years being perpetually punished for his father’s crimes.  He had no reason to think that would stop now.

 

At the stables he dismounted first, helping Millicent down from her horse.  She gave him a thin smile.  “My mother died a long time ago, Arthur.  It wasn’t your fault.  You and I were hardly past childhood.  You could have done nothing to change it.  But you can atone for it now, if you’re willing to put the work in.  To change things for the greater good, as you put it.”

 

Arthur swallowed involuntarily.  “Of course,” he fought to keep his voice steady.  It wasn’t a threat.  In any other circumstance he wouldn’t even think about it.  But now… “I’ll discuss the tax changes at the next council meeting.”

 

Millicent’s smile grew more genuine.  “Thank you, sire.  It is good to know you are so devoted to your people.”

 

“I am devoted to them.  _All_ of them.  From the highest born lady to the lowest born servant.  I would fight to defend them all.  No matter who I had to fight against.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Gaius, have you found anything?”  Arthur shifted on his feet.  He’d spent a further hour after his ride with Millicent listening to Jaxom discussing some paltry aspect of a tapestry Agravaine had pointed out.  After agreeing to join them for a small private meal that evening, he finally was able to make his escape.

 

“I’m afraid not.  Not how to get him out, in any case, other than to kill the spell castor.  That breaks any charm, not just this one, whatever it is..  There isn’t much written about magic with mirrors.  Hardly anything at all, really, and what _is_ written is mostly speculation.  The only definitive thing I’ve come across is that any magic practiced on the mirror will cause the opposite affect to happen.”

 

“So if someone were to try to break him out with a spell, it wouldn’t work.  You mean the sorcerer will have to use a curse to put him in there to break him out?  What kind of madness is that?  If I turned into a mirror every time I thought, gee, I’m glad I’m a person today, I’d never _be_ a person!”

 

“It’s not quite like that, sire,” Gaius said patiently.  “I merely mean that if Merlin, or anyone else who found themselves in such a predicament, were to try to use magic to escape, it would be ineffective.  The purpose, I’m sure, is to get them to accidentally kill themselves in the attempt.”

 

Arthur shuddered.  Never before had he been so glad Merlin wasn’t a sorcerer.  “At least we don’t have to worry about that.  So is there nothing about a counter, something we can do without knowing who did it in the first place?”

 

“If there is, I haven’t come across it yet.”

 

Arthur ran his fingers roughly through his hair in frustration.  “There has to be _something_.  Maybe we could just _break_ the mirror.  Perhaps that would then break the curse.”

 

“Or we could lose Merlin forever.  This isn’t just Merlin possessing a mirror, sire.  His body is gone.  He physically exists in that reflection, and in that reflection alone.  There is no guarantee that shattering the mirror would not simply kill him.”

 

Which meant that they couldn’t take the chance.  At least Merlin was safe in his room.  It was unlikely the sorcerer had meant to curse Merlin into his particular mirror, which meant there was a chance they didn’t know where he’d ended up.  Arthur would simply have to lock his doors whenever he left.  It might make a few people suspicious that something was going on, but he didn’t dare take a risk, not with Merlin’s life on the end.  Let people wonder.

 

Arthur left Gaius to continue his research.  There were still a drove of books in the library he had yet to delve into.  It was possible he would find a solution there.  In the meantime, Arthur had promised to go see Merlin before dinner.  He still had nothing to tell him, not really, other than that bit about reverse magic and shattering mirrors, but Merlin had been alone nearly all day now, other than that short bit where they had tested the limits of the enchantment.  He’d had no one to speak to and nothing to do other than, as he’d said, twiddle his thumbs.

 

Perhaps Arthur would put something in view for him to amuse himself with while he was gone eating.  Could Merlin polish his sword?  Nothing had happened to the dagger when Merlin touched it, but it would at least occupy him, even if the results were worthless.  Maybe there was a game or something he could put out.  Arthur had a chess board sitting around somewhere.  Merlin could practice until he was able to best more than just the cook’s five year old daughter.

 

Back in the room, Arthur found Merlin in the exact spot he’d left him at the forefront of the reflection, though he’d dropped to sit curled up on the ground in the same defeated position as last time.  “Merlin?”  He didn’t look up right away, keeping his head buried in his knees.  Arthur touched the side of the glass.  “Merlin, I’m back.”

 

Finally Merlin dragged his head up, swiping an arm across his face.  It did nothing to hide the mess he’d made of himself.  While his cheeks and lashes didn’t look damp, his eyes were red and bright with unshed tears.  He made no move to stand.

 

“Merlin, are you alright?” Arthur asked gently.

 

“I’m fine,” he replied in what might have been meant as waspish but just came out flat.

 

“What’s wrong?” Arthur blushed.  “Other than, you know, the obvious?”

 

“I told you, it’s nothing.”

 

“ _Merlin_.”

 

Merlin sighed and shrugged.  “You were gone for a long time.”

 

“What, did you think I was never coming back?  This is _my_ room, Merlin.”  _I wouldn’t abandon you like that_.

 

“No, of course not.  It’s just… whenever you leave… it’s like I leave.  The fog closes in, and it’s like I’m just… _falling_.  I can’t hear or see or feel.  There’s… nothing.  I’m nothing.”

 

Arthur was quiet.  He couldn’t imagine going through something like that.  It sounded like hell.  “I’m sorry, Merlin.  I didn’t know.”

 

“Yeah, I know you didn’t.”  He scrubbed his face again and shakily stood, going to perch on the edge of the desk.  “Don’t worry about, Arthur.  There’s nothing you can do about it.  Like I said earlier, it’s not like you can sit here staring at me all day.”

 

“Ah, so now we see the purpose of their evil machinations.  They mean to drive me mad by forcing me to expose myself to your ugly mug for hours on end.  Well, I have to admit, that might just work.”  Merlin’s lips quirked in a flash of a smile.  “That’s better.  But you’re right, I can’t stay here with you all day, much as I would prefer that to politicking with our noble guests.  You may be irritating, but at least you don’t expect me to marry you.”

 

The joke fell flat, and Merlin’s tiny smile vanished.  Of course.  He didn’t need to be reminded right now that Guinevere was gone.

 

He changed the subject.  “Gaius has been working hard on figuring this all out.  He’s not found anything yet, but there’s progress.”  He explained about the magic, not that it actually helped them any.  “Maybe that’s why your power of positive thinking wasn’t working earlier,” he quipped.

 

Merlin, however, nodded thoughtfully, as if what he said was completely logical.  “Yeah.  Yeah, that makes sense.”

 

On the edge of Merlin’s reflected room, Arthur caught sight of something.  Turning, he walked over to it, doing his best to make sure he didn’t lose sight of Merlin.  It was the hand mirror from earlier.

 

“Merlin… Gaius said it was too dangerous to break the mirror to try to get you out, that it might not work at all.  But what if we made it smaller, something I could carry around with me, like this?  Then you wouldn’t have to worry about the fog.”

 

The servant frowned, and Arthur could tell the plan made him nervous.  It made Arthur nervous too.  “Are you sure it would work?”

 

“It’s the same mirror, isn’t it?  And the glaziers wouldn’t have to break the mirror, just carve out a small shape.  If I order them to, they can do it.”

 

“I don’t know… maybe we should wait for Gaius.”

 

“Gaius says there isn’t much written about this type of magic.  We could be stuck waiting until we ferret out the culprit.  I’m on a trail, but there’s no telling whether or not I’ll be able to prove anything, not for a while.  You could be stuck in there for days.”  Arthur moved his hand to press flat against the glass.  “I swear, Merlin, I won’t let anything happen to you.  I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it was safe.”

 

The truth was, he wasn’t one hundred percent sure it _was_ safe.  Arthur trusted his royal glazier, but this was Merlin’s _life_.  One tiny mistake and they might kill him.  But now Merlin was looking at him with such trust and hope and Arthur didn’t have the heart to tell him it wasn’t such a sure thing.

 

Turning the mirror to face the door, Arthur leaned out to hail a servant, sending them with an urgent summons for the glazier.  “I’ll stay with you the whole time, Merlin.  You might have to hide behind something, but I won’t let the fog take you again.”

 

Merlin pulled himself straighter –he’d had to move from the desk when Arthur shifted the mirror– and shook his head, though his hands had a slight tremor.  He balled them into fists.  “No.  You can’t stay.  It’ll make the poor man far too nervous with your big nose breathing down his neck.”

 

“I do not have a big nose!” Arthur protested petulantly.  “And I don’t make people nervous.”

 

“You know you do.”  Merlin looked miserable, but he wasn’t budging.  “I know you don’t mean to, but you’re the king, Arthur.  You’ve got the power to destroy people’s lives at your whim.  _I_ know you’re not that kind of man, but others don’t know you as well as I do.  That kind of power frightens people.”

 

He was right, but Arthur still didn’t like to admit it.  “I’ll be back.  I promise, I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

 

“I know you will.”  Merlin smiled softly.

 

Arthur shuffled his feet anxiously.  The glazier would work as fast as he could at the king’s order, but even a minute was far too long to leave someone in the state Merlin had described.

 

“Merlin, get in my bed.”

 

He startled, surprised even out of his melancholy.  “You want me to do _what_ now?”

 

Arthur angled the mirror to catch a full view of his bed.  “Go lay down.  That way when I leave and everything disappears, you’ll know exactly where you are.  I’ll have them put the new mirror on the bed, so that when I pick it up, you’ll still be in the same spot.”

 

Merlin backed his way over to the bed cautiously.  “You’re _sure_ about this?”

 

“I’m sure.  Trust me, Merlin.”

 

He lay down on the left side of the bed, rolling over to face the middle.  When Arthur came back and picked up the mirror, they would be face to face.  “I trust you.”

 

There was a sharp knock on the door.  “The glazier is here.  I have to go now.  We can’t let him see you.”

 

“I trust you,” Merlin repeated, his voice small but sure.

 

“I’ll come back as soon as I can.”  Arthur took a deep breath to steady himself and stepped out of the sightline of the mirror.

 

The glazier was an old man with steady hands, a skilled elder in his craft.  He’d served as Uther’s royal glazier since he’d become king.  Arthur knew he would be able to do the job.

 

“As large as you can make it while still portable.”  He knew he would look absolutely ridiculous lugging around a hand mirror, but Arthur didn’t care.  So long as Merlin was happy.  “And as quickly as you can manage it.”

 

“Of course, sire.  Give me a few hours or so.  I will make sure it’s done.”

 

“You have two, maximum.  I don’t care if it’s fancy.  Just make sure whatever you do, you don’t break it.  A single crack in the glass and you’re fired.”  He felt a bit of a tinge as he recognized that was exactly the kind of fear Merlin had been talking about him inciting in people, but what Merlin didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.  Breaking the mirror… that would.

 

“Yes, sire.”  The glazier didn’t seem fazed by the ultimatum, though he did raise his eyebrow curiously over the king’s apparent attachment to his mirror.  “As you wish.”

 

It took all of Arthur’s strength to leave the room.  It had been so much easier before, back when he didn’t know what was happening every time he stepped out of frame.  But now all he could think about was Merlin, how terrified he must feel knowing exactly where he was and completely unable to prove it.  Not knowing if his world would go from white to black as he was killed without ever having a chance to say goodbye.

 

When Arthur found out who was responsible for this curse he was going to kill them.  But maybe first he would torture them, find another sorcerer and curse _them_ to live like Merlin was, lost in limbo with no way to escape.

 

Merlin would protest to such thoughts.  He always wanted Arthur to be the better person.  But that was because Merlin always thought him to be a better person than he was.  Arthur knew he was certainly a better person than he had _been_.  Back before he met Merlin, he never would have flinched at the idea of threatening the glazier.  He once would have immediately gone to confront Jaxom and his daughter on the barest suspicion that they had betrayed him, not even considering the consequences that would incite if he were wrong.

 

And another thing, he would have considered the betrayal to _himself_ , no matter that Merlin was the one enchanted.  Merlin would have never even crossed his mind.  He wouldn’t have worried about how he was entertaining himself or how scared he was or been flabbergasted by how much absolute, rock-solid _faith_ Merlin was putting in him.

 

No one had ever _believed_ in him like that.  Not his knights, not even his father.  Merlin hadn’t hesitated to confirm that yes, he trusted Arthur.  He didn’t trust the plan, or the glazier, but he trusted _Arthur_.  _Arthur_ would bring him back out of the fog.  _Arthur_ wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

 

He didn’t know what he’d ever done to earn such loyalty.  Especially not from Merlin, whom he mistreated on a daily basis, even sacking him without so much as pausing to think about whether or not there might be an explanation.  Maybe that was why no one believed in him like Merlin did.  Because he didn’t deserve it.

 

The evening meal with his guests was an awkward affair.  Millicent just sat quietly picking at her plate on one side of the table while Jaxom continued to extol the virtues of his daughter and his home in turns.  Occasionally he might ask Arthur a question on his opinions or interests, but it was only to assure him that Millicent shared the same.  Once he prompted his daughter to expand upon her connection with the family hounds, but after a few sentences, she clammed back up again.

 

At least with Jaxom taking up most of the conversation Arthur could just tune him out.  Eventually he was going to have to take an active role; after all, the count was here for a more official reason than attempting to wed his daughter at the king.  They had a trade route to discuss, the safety of merchant caravans to ensure and punishments for smugglers to negotiate.  The route and its laws had been there for decades, but many of the nobles both in his kingdom and around it seemed to have decided with his father’s death also came the death of their treaties.  Since Uther and Jaxom hadn’t had the best relationship to begin with, it wasn’t hard to believe Jaxom might decide to disregard their uneasy peace, especially with the information Arthur had discovered earlier that day.

 

“I really must thank you again for providing Lord Agravaine to me for that tour of the castle today, sire.  I feel so much more connected to this wonderful city.  I can imagine that anyone who lives here must feel immediately at home any time they step through the gates, what with all this rich history.  It’s the kind of place one doesn’t feel badly about their sisters or daughters living in.  Agravaine told me he felt the same, after your mother the queen moved here.”

 

“Did he?”  Like Uther, Agravaine didn’t like to talk about his mother.  Other than to tell him how much Arthur reminded him of her or how he would always be loyal to him as he was the only part of her he had left, he barely mentioned her at all.  It was like they both believed that by speaking her name they were dishonouring her, or that it would bring some kind of punishment.  At least that was how Arthur felt when he tried to talk about her.  Uther had always glared and told him he was too busy to discuss such matters, and Agravaine pulled a tight smile and slipped around the question until Arthur simply gave up.

 

“He did.  It must have been hard on you, growing up without her.  I know it was hard on my Millie.  Mothers bring so much into their children’s lives.  And into the lives of all of us.  Their loss makes us cling to our loved ones tighter, just to hold a part of them.  Agravaine said he nearly came and took you away, so that he could give you everything you deserved.  Everything Uther would never be able to break down his stubborn walls and give you himself.”

 

Arthur did his best to hide his surprise.  He knew Agravaine and his father hadn’t gotten along much better than Jaxom and Uther had, but he’d never known the man wanted to raise him for himself.  But then, he’d also lost his sister and his brother, the only family he had, in a few short weeks.  This new insight into his uncle made him appreciate his guidance so much more.

 

“Lady Millicent told me earlier today about your wife.  I’m sorry for your loss.  As you said, I know what it’s like, to lose someone you love before their time.”

 

_Merlin could die.  He could be dead now.  The glazier could have shattered the mirror.  What if when I come back he’s gone?_

 

“My lord, are you alright?”  Millicent’s quiet voice permeated his panicked thoughts.  He hadn’t even noticed he’d frozen, his breath quickened to short, jerky puffs.  He had to fight to level it out again.

 

“I’m fine,” he forced his voice to remain steady.  “I’m afraid the food tonight doesn’t quite agree with me.  I think I might need to retire early.”  The mirror wouldn’t be done, but Arthur had to go back.  He had to make sure Merlin was alright.

 

“Oh dear.  I do hope it’s only your dish and not ours as well.  Not that I’m happy you’re ill, sire,” Jaxom corrected himself quickly.  “Merely that, well, we will not… _all_ … become ill.”

 

“It’s quite alright,” Arthur assured him.  “Yes, I believe I will turn in for the night.  I will see you tomorrow at the council meeting?”

 

“If the invitation still stands, of course I will be there.”

 

Arthur hurried from the hall without waiting for any further goodbyes.  _I’m coming, Merlin._

 

His progress was halted by the appearance of his knights.  He’d nearly forgotten he’d sent them in search of news in the lower town.  From the dejected looks on all of their faces, they’d come up empty anyway.

 

“We asked everyone.  No one saw him, not leaving through the gates or buying something at the stalls or even going to fetch water,” Gwaine scuffed the floor with his boot in frustration, probably wanting to kick the wall but too far away.  “If he’s left Camelot, he wasn’t meant to be seen.”

 

“We asked around the castle, too,” Elyan continued.  “We kept it quiet, just a general ‘have you happened to have seen him’ kinda thing, but nothing.  Arthur, what’s going on?  What happened to Merlin?”

 

“We have to send out search parties,” Gwaine insisted.  “Maybe Morgana transported herself into the castle in the middle of the night and took him.  Someone must have seen her skulking around in the countryside.”

 

“If they had, wouldn’t we have heard about it by now?” Percival pointed out.

 

“Well we can’t just do nothing!  Come on, princess, this is your friend we’re talking about here, too.  I’m ready to leave anytime, just say the word.  Or don’t, I’ll go anyway.”

 

Arthur sighed and scratched his fingers through his hair.  “No one’s going anywhere, Gwaine.”

 

“ _What_?  You’re just going to _leave him–_ ”

 

“Oh, be quiet!” Arthur snapped, his nerves frayed from dealing with potential traitors and worrying about Merlin all day.  “Do you really think if I thought Merlin was in danger, I wouldn’t be the first one to go after him?”

 

“Oh yes, because you’ve been doing a great job of charging off to his rescue so far!  Prancing around with your pretty princesses while the rest of us–”

 

“You forget your place, _Sir_ Gwaine-”

 

“You know where he is, don’t you?”

 

Gwaine and Arthur both whipped around to face Leon.

 

“You aren’t looking because you already know what’s happened to him.  That’s why Gwaine said you didn’t seem concerned that he could be being tortured.  Because you know where he is.”

 

Gwaine looked apoplectic at the thought and opened his mouth for another tirade, but Arthur swiftly cut him off.  “Yes.  Yes, I do.”  Again he had to glare the others into silence as they immediately started to ask questions.  “I know where he is, and I know –in a way– what has happened to him.  What I don’t know is who did it.  _That’s_ your mission.  I needed you to find out if there was any word of strangers, or frustrations, or anything or anyone that might mean him harm.  It could very well be Morgana, believe me, I haven’t counted her out in the slightest.  But I’m also not prepared to discount any other possibilities.”

 

“But _why didn’t you–_ ”

 

“ _I don’t know who did it, Gwaine_.  That’s the only advantage these people hold over us right now, that we don’t know who they are.  If they find out we’re onto them or that we’re trying to be, what do you think they might do?  Do you really want to put Merlin at risk that way?”

 

Gwaine grumbled a contrite negative.  Then he glared up at the king again.  “Is there anything you _can_ tell us, _sire?_ ”

 

“I can tell you that Merlin is not currently in any danger.  But the sooner we figure out who has worked their magic against him the better.  Can I trust you to this task, Sir Gwaine?”

 

“Yes, sire.”  The other added their agreement.

 

“Then you are dismissed.”

 

The others trailed off, Gwaine hovering behind.  “Arthur…”

 

“He’s safe, Gwaine.”  Arthur felt himself slumping again, anger dissipating.  “That’s all I can tell you right now.”

 

“So I take it I can’t come see him?  At least, from the sounds of it you have yourself.  Is he nearby?”

 

“I don’t know,” Arthur found himself chuckling slightly hysterically.  “I don’t know if he’s nearby or far away or right next to me.  I wish I did.  But no, it’s best if no one sees him right now.”  Not when Merlin had just spent hours trapped in a white limbo.

 

Gwaine rested a hand on Arthur’s shoulder.  “We’ll find them, mate.  Whoever the bastard is that did whatever he did to Merlin, we’ll find him.  And we’ll tear him apart.

 

“Thank you, Gwaine.”  The knight made to walk away, but then a thought came to Arthur.  “Actually, there’s something else you could do first…”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Arthur entered his chambers and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the large handled mirror on his bed, just where he’d instructed it be put.  Balancing his bounty on the covers, he laid down so that he was where Merlin had placed himself.  Then he picked up the mirror.

 

It was still strange, Merlin’s face immediately filling at least half of the glass instead of Arthur’s own.  Somehow the enchantment seemed to have shifted, as if difference in size meant the objects they reflected shrunk as well.  Not much, but enough that Merlin looked oddly smaller.  At first glance Merlin looked as sad as he had the last time Arthur had returned, but immediately he broke into a grin upon seeing him.

 

“Miss me already?”

 

“Of course not.  Now Gwaine, he’s ready to tear apart the countryside looking for you.  Next time you go and get yourself cursed, you might want to give him a heads up.”

 

Merlin winced.  “Did you tell him what happened, then?”

 

“Seeing as I don’t know what happened?  Not really.  I gave him and the others the highlights.  The vague highlights.  They know you’re safe, if a bit… indisposed due to sorcery.  I have them on the case looking for your enchanter right now.”

 

“I thought that was your job,” Merlin accused, though he didn’t look as offended as he sounded.

 

“If I were out hunting sorcerers, how would I give you this?”  Arthur propped up the mirror on the headboard so that Merlin would have a less obstructed view, then lifted the plate of food.  The bright grin that filled his face was more than enough reward for the trouble he’d gone through convincing Gwaine that getting Merlin food did not mean Arthur was hiding the servant in his chambers.

 

Even though he sort of was.

 

“I figured if you could touch things that were reflected over to you, maybe this way you could have something to eat.  I don’t know when during the night this all started, but from the sounds of your report earlier, you haven’t eaten since yesterday evening.  I thought you might be hungry.”

 

“Famished!”  Merlin picked up a leg of chicken and stuffed it in his face, forgoing all table manners that one generally used even when one was _not_ dining with a king.  Or in front of a king at least.  “Fanks, Ahfur.”

 

“You’re welcome,” Arthur smirked.

 

While Merlin ate Arthur filled him on his impressions of the count and his daughter, telling him the story of the late countess and what he’d learned about Agravaine.  Surprisingly, though he agreed that the visiting nobles were certainly ones to watch out for, he looked unimpressed at Agravaine’s almost actions.

 

“But he didn’t, did he?  From what I’ve heard, Uther was so busy burning sorcerers he probably wouldn’t have even noticed if Agravaine had taken you.  So why didn’t he?”

 

“Because I was the prince, Merlin.” Arthur fought not to raise his voice.  He didn’t want to argue, not with Merlin.  “He understood that.  And he knew that my father would provide the very best for me, even without my mother around.”

 

Merlin bowed his head in what Arthur took to be an apology.  Quietly he said, “I’m glad he didn’t.  You wouldn’t be you if you’d grown up somewhere else.”

 

Abashed, Arthur let him finish eating in silence, picking at pieces of the meal since he hadn’t really had a chance to eat all of his own.  Merlin took up the chatter and talked around –and sometimes through –his mouthfuls, not about anything important, but just about _things_.  Arthur wondered if this was the kind of discussion that would be heard around Gaius’s table, or Hunith’s.  The kind of talk Merlin felt comfortable having with family.

 

It wasn’t that this was the first meal they had even shared together.  Far from it.  They had spent countless nights out in the forest, eating meals Merlin prepared for them and the knights.  But Merlin tended to talk less when he was with the others, despite the fact that they were all his friends.  Maybe he noticed the difference in ranks more when he was with others who actually followed such a hierarchy.  Maybe the others just talked so much Merlin couldn’t get a word in edgewise.  Whatever the reason, it was nice just to have this now.

 

Finishing the last scrap of honey bun Gwaine had somehow obtained –it certainly hadn’t appeared at _Arthur’s_ meal –Merlin let out a large yawn.  Arthur smirked.  “I take that to mean you’re ready for a nap, you utter child?”

 

“I’m not surprised you’re not,” he had to pause for another jaw-cracking yawn “’s not like you did any work today, not without me around to keep on your case.”

 

“Actually I got _more_ work done without you around to annoy me.”  _And less work done because I wished you were._

 

 

 

Although he was just continuing their banter, that didn’t seem to be what Merlin wanted to hear.  He became quiet, picking at the blanket while Arthur awkwardly got up and went to retrieve his sleeping clothes, making sure he stayed in sight.  He brought an extra pair and laid them on the bed.  Although Merlin had sworn he went to sleep the night before, he wore his regular day clothes.

 

“If you’re going to sleep here, I’d rather you be clean.”  He said it dismissively, but he couldn’t help the way his breath hitched at the idea of Merlin changing in front of him.  Sure, Arthur changed in front of Merlin, with his _help_ , every day.  But Arthur had never seen that side of Merlin before.

 

Merlin turned six shades of red as he seemed to realize that as well.  Arthur tried to defuse the tension by stripping out of his shirt first, but Merlin’s eyes just remained riveted on his torso, heating Arthur as if his gaze was made of fire.  Which wouldn’t make sense because for some reason all that heat was going directly to his groin.  Slowly, Arthur tugged his nightshirt over his head and smoothed it down.  He, too, blushed then as he realized what the next step would reveal.  There was no way he could hide the rapidly forming bulge between his legs.  As he repeated the process with his trousers moving as quickly as he could, he watched from the corner of his eyes as Merlin’s own widened, his pupils dilating.

 

He grabbed the mirror again, though he left it where it was against the headboard.  “Your turn.”  Oh gods, was that his voice all strangled like that?  It couldn’t possibly be.

 

Merlin seemed to curl in on himself, turning a particularly mottled colour Arthur hadn’t known was previously possible.  He looked like he was fighting the urge to tell Arthur to turn away, all with the knowledge that he couldn’t.  Or maybe that a bigger part of him didn’t want to.  Finally he reached up and untied the strip of cloth around his neck.

 

Just the reveal of that small strip of smooth pale flesh immediately had Arthur hard as a rock.  Next came the shirt, exposing a smattering of chest hair.  Merlin wasn’t toned like the knights, with large rippling muscles.  Instead he was lithe and lean, but far from womanly softness.  His nightshirt hid this treasure far too soon for Arthur’s liking, and he couldn’t help the pathetic whine that escaped him.

 

But it was far from the moan that followed the divesting of Merlin’s trousers, revealing that under his smallclothes he was just as hard with want as Arthur.  He quickly clapped his free hand over his mouth in an attempt to deny it had happened, but it was far too late for that.

 

“ _Arthur,_ ” Merlin breathed, sounding just as broken.  Tossing aside the need to replace his trousers, he reached forward a hand toward him.  Arthur brushed his own hand over the mirror, wishing it wasn’t between them so that he might run his fingers over every inch of skin, both hidden and exposed.  He knew Merlin would be hot and pliable under his touch, nothing like this hard, cold glass.

 

“ _Merlin_.  Merlin, I–”

 

“Shh.  Don’t.  I have this bad feeling that the second you open that mouth of yours you’re going to ruin this all.”  Merlin palmed himself and Arthur groaned again, this time in unison with him.

 

“Do _not_ talk about mouths right now.”  Arthur wanted to press his down Merlin’s spine, suck each of those pert nipples in and lave them with his tongue.  “Just… just keep touching yourself.”

 

Merlin obeyed without any of his usual snark, rubbing his hand harshly up and down the bulge in his smallclothes.  Arthur wanted to do the same, but he couldn’t even think about dividing his attention right now, needed to see Merlin pleasure himself with every fibre of his being.  Merlin pressed rougher and harder, his groans growing deeper and more needy, until Arthur was nearly bursting with the need to touch him, touch himself, touch _anything_ to break the building pressure.  He could tell from the increasing garbled quality of Merlin’s sounds that he was just as close.  Arthur leaned as close to the mirror as he dared and whispered.

 

“Come for me, Merlin.”

 

With a cry of “ _Arthur,_ ” Merlin did, white stickiness soaking into his small clothes and leaking out the top onto his belly.  Arthur reached down to palm himself then, requiring barely half a dozen pumps before he, too, spilled over, panting with exertion and still pent-up want.

 

“What I was going to say,” he choked out once he had gotten his voice, barely, under control, “was that I am definitely going to get you out of there now, Merlin.  Before not being able to touch you destroys me.”

 

Merlin just laughed.  “Now you know how I feel, prat.  Having to look at you preening every day.  And I _was_ able to touch you.  Just not the way… not the way I wanted to.”

 

Arthur reached out, then dropped his hand, not willing to shatter the illusion by grabbing the glass again.  “When you’re back where you belong, I promise, you’ll be able to touch in every way you could possibly imagine.  Several times over.  In the first night.”

 

“ _Someone_ thinks a lot of themselves,” Merlin smirked, though his eyes danced.

 

“You’ll soon learn we Pendragons have quite good stamina, _Mer_ lin.”

 

Merlin yawned again, still not bothering to put on his trousers as he snuggled into the blankets and nearly out of Arthur’s view.  Arthur picked up the mirror so that he could lie down as well, nestling the mirror next to him so that if he pretended, he could imagine that Merlin was lying there next to him.

 

“You’re going to get come all over my sheets, Merlin.”

 

“’S not like anyone else is going to use them.  Besides, you don’t look so clean yourself, _sire_ ,” he mumbled back.

 

“I’m allowed.  You’re the one who’ll have to clean them.”

 

“Nah, I’ll make George do it.  He gets sad not being able to do things for you.  It’ll…” Another yawn.  “Make him feel useful.”

 

“Idiot,” he smiled fondly.  As he felt himself dropping off to sleep, he mumbled out, “Tomorrow, Merlin.  We’re getting you out tomorrow.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Waking up to the sight of Merlin filled Arthur with more joy than it should have considering his love was still trapped in a mirror.  That thought right there startled him even more.  Having any feelings at all for Merlin beyond, perhaps, a bit of fondness… he never would have considered it.  Whatever these feelings were, love or fondness or insanity, Arthur thought he could come to enjoy them.  Last night had been an awkward mess of discovery and exploration, but things could only get better from there, right?

 

Assured that he wouldn’t notice the brief disappearance, Arthur left Merlin to continue sleeping while he changed into his clothes for the day.  _See, idiot?  I can **too** get dressed by myself._   Then he went back to lie down next to him again.

 

“Let’s have you, lazy daisy.”

 

Slowly Merlin’s eyes opened, and Arthur was swept away by their cool blue hue.  He’d looked into those eyes a hundred times before, but now it was like the veils had opened to reveal the man within.  He could have lay there and stared at them for hours.

 

“You have to get up,” Merlin chided him gently, smiling.  Neither of them made a move.  “You’ve got your guests.  And the council.  And probably some farmer who wants to grant you a chicken for being all wonderful and kingly.”

 

Arthur chuckled.  “No, just a count who wants to grant me his daughter so she can be all wonderful and queenly.”  Merlin’s smile vanished and so did Arthur’s.  “But let’s not… It’s not the time to talk about that, alright?”

 

Merlin nodded meekly, but Arthur could see him starting to close off from him again.  “Okay.”  He sat up and Arthur went with him so that Merlin could keep himself oriented.  “We don’t have to talk about it.”

 

“ _Merlin_.”  Merlin stopped, but didn’t look up at him.  “Merlin, I _want_ to talk about it.  I do, just not…  What Jaxom wants, or the council or any of them, it doesn’t matter, do you understand?  It doesn’t _change_ anything.”

 

It changed everything, and they both knew it.  But Arthur was right, now wasn’t the time to discuss it.

 

He watched Merlin dress in yesterday’s clothes, though the sullen mood helped them to refrain from a repeat of last night’s events.  There was a knock on the door.  Merlin nodded and Arthur lowered the mirror out of sight, though he made sure that Merlin could still see him.

 

Gaius entered, bearing Arthur’s breakfast.  “I headed off George.  I wanted to take some time to check on Merlin.”  He looked over at the mirror and startled to see it was gone.  “What?  Where’s-”

 

“He’s here, Gaius.”  Arthur held up the hand mirror.  “I thought this would be better.  Merlin expressed some concerns about the times he wasn’t able to appear in the glass and we came up with this as a solution.”

 

“Are you sure about this, sire?”

 

Arthur rolled his eyes.  “You sound like Merlin.  Yes, I’m sure.  Look, he’s perfectly alright.  And this way I can take him with me instead of abandoning him to my rooms all day.  He’ll be safer that way, anyway.  Even if I locked my chambers it’s not like the sorcerer couldn’t just magic them open.”

 

“But don’t you think it will be considered a bit _odd_ if you’re suddenly seen carting around a mirror everywhere?”

 

“I don’t think it’ll be that big a shock, personally,” Merlin snorted.

 

“Hush, you.  Don’t make me stick you under a pillow.”

 

“Put around the story that he’s being haunted,” Merlin suggested, this time actually at least _trying_ to be helpful.  “You suggested the mirror to help him look behind him.”  Gaius didn’t look too happy about this plan, though.  “Look, it would be strange if Arthur _wasn’t_ concerned about sorcery right now.  I’ve gone missing without a trace?  We don’t have to let on that we think it’s someone within the walls.  Tell them it’s to do with Morgana.  It very well _could_ be Morgana for all we know.  And if it is, she knows Arthur wouldn’t just be traipsing around seemingly without a care with me just vanished.”  They shared a look that hopefully Gaius had blinked and missed.  “We should give her spies something to report.”

 

Arthur flinched at the implication that there was a spy in his court, but it wasn’t like he didn’t already know that.  He’d gone rooting around enough himself for them, hadn’t he?  Unfortunately he kept coming up empty, and the knowledge that there was someone close to him, someone he trusted, plotting against him rankled.

 

“We’ll do it.  You’ll have to stay out of sight though, even if the mirror doesn’t at times.  I’ll try to keep you in my lap during the council meeting, but I can’t promise where you’ll be positioned the rest of the time.”

 

Arthur saw Merlin shiver at the idea of being in Arthur’s lap and he couldn’t help but smile.  Yes, he needed to get Merlin out and soon.

 

“I’ll be fine.  So long as I can see you I don’t care what my surroundings look like.”

 

Gaius coughed awkwardly.  “Yes, well.  I will go and start spreading the word about Merlin’s absence and your potential ghost, sire.  Though if I might make a suggestion, it might help if you didn’t quite so _happy_ about this whole thing.”

 

They were able to make it –just barely- until the door closed behind the old physician before the pair burst out into giggles.

 

“He’s right you know,” Merlin admitted, though he couldn’t help the smile that played around his lips.  “If you go around grinning like a fool no one will ever believe I’m missing.  They’ll just think you’ve captured me yourself and are holding me hostage in your own personal stocks.”

 

“Oh, now _there’s_ an idea.”  Visions of Merlin held helpless in the pillory, subject to his whim flashed before his mind’s eye, and he grinned further as the thoughts filled him with fire.

 

“You wish,” Merlin scowled, but he smirked.  “Get me out of here and perhaps we can talk about the gentle application of neckerchiefs sailors’ knots.”

 

“Promises, promises.”

 

“Don’t you have a meeting to get to, your highness?”

 

Arthur sauntered back over to his bed.  “They can wait.  I _am_ the king, after all.”

 

“Oh, now you’re _definitely_ going to be late.”

 

By the time they made their way out of Arthur’s chambers, mirror tucked to his side, reflective glass facing inwards, they _were_ running a bit late.  Arthur made sure to make a show of lifting the mirror every once in a while as if checking behind himself for magical beings.  Each time he had to resist smiling at the man whose reflection really looked back at him.

 

The third time he checked and found Merlin making the most ridiculous faces at him, Arthur had to actually stop to get himself under control.  “You’re going to get us caught.”

 

“You act as if we’ve done something wrong.  When in fact, I believe it is I who have been the wronged.”

 

“And how do we know they didn’t wrong you because you wronged them first?”

 

“Because-”

 

“Arthur!”

 

Merlin snapped his mouth shut as Gwaine shouted down the corridor.  Arthur tucked him close to his body again, shielding him from exposure.  “Yes, Sir Gwaine?”

 

“Arthur, I just heard from one of the kitchen maids.  They know.  They know Merlin’s missing.  I swear, Arthur, none of us breathed a word.  I don’t know how they found out.”

 

It seemed Gaius worked fast.  Or at least he knew exactly who to talk to get word to spread like lightning.  Arthur knew he shouldn’t be surprised.  Gossip was a castle’s lifeblood.  “Relax, Gwaine.  We meant for them too.  Merlin’s technically been gone over a day.  People would talk if I weren’t looking for him.”

 

“But we aren’t looking for him, are we?  You said you knew where he was.”

 

“No, we’re not.  But we need the culprits to think that we are.”

 

“Don’t worry, I’m just as confused as you are.”

 

Gwaine _squeaked_.  Arthur just scowled and raised the mirror so he could glare into it.  “I thought I told you to be quiet.”

 

“I recall no such order,” Merlin rebuffed flippantly.  “Besides, when have I ever done as you say?”

 

Gwaine gawked, though from his angle he couldn’t actually see what Arthur could in the mirror, could only tell that Merlin’s _voice_ was coming out of it.  “What the he-”

 

Arthur pulled him into the nearest room, closing and locking the door.  “You must swear not to breathe a word of this.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, sure.  Merlin?  You okay?”

 

Arthur angled the mirror so Merlin could see both of them.  The servant grinned out at his friends, waving to Gwaine.  “Hello!  Don’t worry, Gwaine, I’m fine.  Well, mostly.  Other than the whole being a mirror thing.”

 

“Merlin, mate, I hate to ask, but… how _exactly_ does one ‘become a mirror?’”

 

“Well, I’m not _actually_ a mirror.  At least, I don’t think I am.  It’s a bit confusing really.  Luckily I’ve had some time to adjust.”

 

Arthur snorted.  “Like yesterday when you were having your little meltdown?”

 

“Hey!” Merlin pouted.  “Let’s stick you on this side and see how you feel!”

 

Arthur sobered, remembering the experience Merlin had every time Arthur left the view of the mirror.  “Sorry,” he mumbled.

 

“Okay, so this is the ‘not really missing but kind of missing’ thing you were talking about?”  Gwaine made to take the mirror for a better look, but Arthur shook his head and shifted it out of reach.

 

“Yes.  This is the part we’re still not telling anyone.  That means _anyone_ , Gwaine.  This is between the three of us and Gaius, understood?”

 

Gwaine nodded solemnly, though he still looked intrigued.  “Of course.  I won’t let you down, mate.”

 

Arthur unlocked the door to let them out.  “See that you don’t.”

 

“He won’t say anything,” Merlin murmured as Gwaine walked away.  “He wants to protect me just as much as you do.”

 

“I know, I just… I worry.  Any aspect I can’t control is something I can’t prepare for.”

 

“It’ll be okay, Arthur.  Just focus on catching out this count and his spawn so you can break me out of here.”

 

The council was waiting for him when he entered the hall, several of them shooting him annoyed glares.  Agravaine raised his eyebrow in question, but since Arthur obviously couldn’t answer, he simply nodded and ignored the whispers.

 

“I apologize for my tardiness.  My servant has gone missing, and I have had to make do without him.”

 

The whispers increased slightly, but for the most part none of the council members truly cared about a wayward servant, even if he did serve the king.

 

“Sire, I thought I recalled you mentioning yesterday your servant was ill,” Jaxom pointed out.

 

“Yes.”  Arthur’s heart rate jumped a bit at being caught in his lie, but he continued smoothly, “I believed he was, but it seems it was merely a cover for his unexplainable absence.  Not to worry.  I’m sure he will turn up soon.”

 

Arthur took his seat, settling Merlin on his lap as promised.  Agravaine frowned as he caught the movement, but since he couldn’t see what was reflecting back, he seemed to shrug it off.

 

“Now, where were we?”

 

Two hours and a migraine later, Arthur wished the council was one of those kingly duties he could simply blow off.  Nothing seemed to get accomplished with the gathering of advisors, all of whom were determined to ensure the verdict lay in their best interests.  His only saving grace was Merlin, who had taken to writing notes and silently showing them to Arthur whenever he looked down, which was becoming increasingly more often as the meeting went on.  Sometimes the notes held advice, other times a funny quip.  Arthur made sure he wasn’t actually touching the mirror so Merlin couldn’t accidently be heard.  That didn’t stop the others from hearing _him_ when a snarky comment about Lord Upton’s nasally voice made him snort in laughter, not so quickly covered into a cough.

 

When talk turned to land and trade Arthur breathed a sigh of relief.  This was the last item on the docket.

 

“I will, of course, be more than willing to provide a security escort of any and all trading caravans, and regulate smuggling in accordance to the laws of Camelot,” Jaxom assured them.  “But that is provided you have something to provide me in return.  Guards require gold, sire.  The extra manpower to oversee the increase in prosperity the kingdom is undergoing is significant.”

 

 _Not **that** significant._   But Arthur had known he would have to give something other than his good favour to keep the count happy.  “We will increase your yield of the profit from the crops on your land by 10%.  That should more than cover any extra expenses.”

 

“Thank you, sire, that is quite generous.  I was wondering if you might be considering my proposal for my daughter Millicent to stay on in Camelot.  I remember you had expressed interest in her returning some day.”

 

Arthur grimaced, and in the mirror he could see Merlin shrink himself a bit, like he was trying to hide despite his inability to do so.  There was no card offered for this situation.  “I have given it some thought, Count Jaxom.  If your daughter wishes to stay, she may, of course.  Although I’m not sure what we have to offer to entertain a young lady such as herself.”

 

“Oh, I’m sure you can find something to offer an eligible young lady, sire.”

 

“Speaking of eligible young ladies, sire, we have finally received the counteroffer from Nemeth.”  Arthur breathed a sigh of relief as his uncle interrupted the count’s further propositions.  “They have agreed to our terms and added one of their own.  They insist you solidify the alliance with a marriage: you and their Princess Mithian.”

 

“Marriage to a foreign princess?” Jaxom cried out.  “How absurd!  Of course you cannot possibly be considering this, sire.”

 

“We must forge political ties wherever and however we can,” Lord Upton pointed out.  “In a case as important as land claims, a marriage to bind together our two kingdoms seems most logical.”

 

“It would be extremely beneficial to the kingdom, sire,” Agravaine concurred.

 

“This is preposterous!” Jaxom shouted again.  Arthur privately agreed.  He didn’t want to marry some princess he’d never met.  He had Merlin.  Even Guinevere, for all she had hurt him, was a better choice than some girl he had never met.  “Sire, you can gain just as many advantages from a marriage with a lady from within Camelot’s borders.  Take my Millicent, for example-”

 

“But you see, Count Jaxom, I have no _desire_ to take your Millicent,” Arthur blurted before he could stop himself.

 

Jaxom spluttered, face turning red.  “Well I never!  I demand an apology for these impunities against my daughter’s honour!”

 

“No one has impugned your daughter’s honour, Jaxom.  I’m merely saying that if you wish her to be a continued presence in my life, her role would be a limited one, which would certainly not include the title of wife.”

 

“My daughter deserves her place on the throne!  For all the suffering you and your father have put her through-”

 

“Your wife was a witch.  She made her bed, and now she must lie in it,” Arthur snapped.  “As must all who dabble in sorcery.  Particularly those who attack innocent citizens that I care about and believe that that they can get away with it.”

 

Stunned silence greeted his words, and more than a few confused looks.  Arthur knew he had revealed more than he ought to have, but he couldn’t help it.  He wanted Merlin _free_ , damn it.

 

“If you cannot accept this, Count Jaxom, I suggest you leave.”

 

“Leave the council, sire?”

 

“The council, the city, the kingdom, take your pick.”

 

Jaxom’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.  “You’re _banishing me_?  I should have known.  You’re your father’s son, Pendragon.”

 

Usually Arthur bristled when people compared him to Uther like that, but in this case he took pride in the words.  “My father would be happy to see me realizing I am the highest authority in Camelot, and therefore I have the authority to listen to whom I please when it comes to matters such as these, and those sympathetic to sorcerers will never be ones to make the list.  Good day, Count Jaxom.”

 

Guards came forward and hauled the still protesting count from the hall.  Arthur looked down at Merlin for support, but the servant simply looked rather sad.  Perhaps Arthur had gone out of view in his anger and made the servant disappear?  He adjusted the mirror in his lap, but Merlin refused to talk to him the rest of the session, choosing to doodle on his remaining slips of paper instead.  Arthur tried not to let it bother him.  Merlin had a right to be moody, after all.

 

Arthur dismissed the council as quickly as he could, hurrying back to the privacy of his rooms.  There, he set Merlin down on the table, propping him up against a wine jug.  Merlin took a seat, fiddling with the knife Arthur had left on the table after breakfast.

 

“Merlin, I’m sorry.  I promise, this isn’t over.  I’ll have him arrested and brought here for questioning.  We’ll get you out.”

 

“I know you will,” Merlin mumbled.  “I trust you, Arthur.”

 

“He’ll hang for this.  Using magic, on the king’s servant no less, people will be offering to tie the noose themselves.  I’ll let you have first go if you want.”

 

“No thanks.”

 

Arthur sighed, stroking one edge of the mirror and wishing it was Merlin’s face.  “What is it, Merlin?  Do you think he’ll refuse to reverse this curse?  Because he _will_ do it.  And if he doesn’t agree to do so, Gaius said, the death of the castor will do it.”

 

Merlin didn’t look any happier.  He was quiet for a long while.  “Arthur… what if none of it works?  What if I’m stuck in here forever?”

 

“Merlin, no, you mustn’t think like that!  I told you I would get you out, didn’t ?”

 

“I know you did, it’s just… what if you don’t _want_ to get me out?”

 

“What?  What kind of question is that?”  Obviously being stuck in this mirror was having adverse effects on Merlin’s mind, to have him thinking such absurd things as that.  _Of course_ Arthur wanted Merlin out of the mirror.  Not even in his land of opposite thinking could he ever _not_ want Merlin.  It just wasn’t possible.

 

“I know you hate sorcery.  I’m just saying, you might decide to just stick me on a shelf-”

 

“Well don’t ‘just say.’”  The implication that Arthur would change his mind about Merlin just because someone had cursed him stung, and he could feel himself growing angry.  “I’m done talking about this, Merlin.”  He brought his hands away from the mirror, silencing the servant.  “Sorcery doesn’t change who you are to me, Merlin.  It never could.”

 

He ignored Merlin the rest of the day, though he still carried the mirror about with him, not even in his anger forgetting about the void Merlin would fall into if he didn’t.  Merlin tried to speak to him the few times they were alone and Arthur was in contact with him, but he was always cut off before he could get far.

 

According to Agravaine, Jaxom and his daughter were packing to leave.  Apparently Arthur could kiss his safe trade route good bye.  He would have to plan with the council another route the caravans could take and pray that an influx of smugglers didn’t overturn his entire economy.

 

“You ought to go apologize before they get too far, Arthur.  Even your father recognized the influence of the lords of the court.  Turning Jaxom against you could have far-reaching consequences.”

 

“Then I will deal with them as they come, Uncle.”  Perhaps he _was_ overreacting to the count’s outburst, but Arthur was done with dealing with noble family after noble family who only cared about one thing: forcing him together with their female offspring.  At least he hadn’t had to deal with that when it came to Guinevere.  If anything, Elyan had been against their marriage, if only because he worried what such a station and responsibility boost would do to her.

 

Guinevere was on his mind far too much in the past few days, and apparently she was still on Merlin’s mind, too.  When they sat down for the evening meal, and Arthur decided Merlin could talk to him again, she was the first thing he brought up.

 

“Have you forgotten about Gwen?  You can’t fool me, sire, I know you still love her.  Do you really think you can do this to her, casting her aside for her friend?  And what will the council think?  You can’t turn down this marriage to Mithian.  Spurning a princess like that will only cause more strife, and after today you really can’t afford that.  You’d be the talk of the kingdom, choosing serving girl only for her to cheat on you with one of your knights, then dumping a princess because you’d rather sleep with your servant, your _male_ servant?  I can’t see a princess just going along and being okay with you doing that.  It’s not going to work-”

 

“ _Merlin_ ,” Arthur finally interrupted.  “Are you _trying_ to get me to leave you in there?  I wasn’t aware you had grown so attached to being my reflection.”

 

“No, of course not!” he protested, yet oddly Arthur couldn’t shake the feeling he was lying.  “I’m just trying to get you to see that this _thing_ between you and me, it doesn’t matter.  It can’t work.  We just have to put it aside and forget it.”

 

“You want to forget it?”  Arthur felt his heart sink.  Of course Merlin didn’t mean any of it.  It was just the heat of the moment.  He was upset about the situation, and Arthur was there to take his mind of it.

 

“No, Arthur.  No, I don’t _want_ to forget-”

 

“You’d just rather we pretend it didn’t happen.  Fine.  I can do that.  Very well, Merlin.  Consider it disregarded.”

 

“Arthur-”

 

But Arthur had taken his hand away once more, dropping his eyes to his half eaten plate.  Something was going on to freak Merlin out, but whatever it was he couldn’t fathom.  Other than the confrontation in the council meeting about a potential arranged marriage, nothing had happened to affect him like this, and they had discussed all that this morning.  Or at least agreed this morning they would discuss it later.  This was not discussing.  This was Merlin panicking and refusing to allow Arthur to be the voice of reason.

 

Obviously Merlin had been stuck with just his own thoughts for far too long that day.  Even Arthur was prone to doubt if he allowed himself to get too caught up in his own head.  That was what he kept Merlin around for.  He would just have to fill that role for Merlin now.  He turned his gaze back towards the mirror.

 

Merlin was out of his chair, jumping up and down, screaming silently at him to get his attention.  Arthur smirked.  See?  Merlin didn’t really want Arthur to forget about him.  He reached forward to touch the frame again.

 

“-hind you!  Arthur, look out!”

 

Arthur spun around just in time to dive out of the way of the sword coming for his neck. Jaxom stood behind him, wielding his broadsword with a grin on his face.  Arthur scrambled backward, mourning that his own sword was in the armoury.  There was a knife under his pillow that he kept for security and his hunting knife on the table, but he wasn’t sure he could safely get to either of them before Jaxom landed a blow.

 

He dodged each of the swipes the count made for him, trying to angle the fight so he could reach a weapon.  “This won’t solve anything!” he shouted in petition.  He didn’t bother asking why the count would attack now, not when the disgraced man now had nothing left to lose.

 

“It’s because of you Uther hunted innocents like my wife.”  Another slash.  “The druids were peaceful.  Without you they would have been left in peace.”

 

“They’re being left in peace now!”  Elyan’s druid spirit had assured that.  “I’ve been making plans to send out envoys-”

 

“That won’t atone for the lives you’ve already taken!”

 

With another swipe the count sent Arthur stumbling backward, losing his balance and falling to the ground just short of the table where Merlin and his knife were.

 

“But you can pay now, _your highness._ ”

 

The tip of the sword plunged towards his heart, and Arthur closed his eyes, not wanting to see the end.  The seconds dragged by, and he wondered if death was really like this, so quick and pain free.  Still feeling nothing but well aware of his continued ragged breathing and rapid heartbeat, Arthur opened his eyes.  The sheen of steel glinted a mere breath from his chest, leading up to Jaxom’s manic face. His manic, frozen face.

 

Arthur scrambled to his feet and away from the count, putting the table between them.  “W-what just happened?” he asked the open air.

 

Then suddenly Jaxom was pitching forward, carried by his previous momentum.  He caught himself on the edge of the table, and for the briefest moment they exchanged bewildered stares.  The pause didn’t last for long before the count was attacking again.  Arthur lunged for his hunting knife, but before he could wrap his fingers around it, the knife was soaring through the air all on its own and burying itself into Jaxom’s heart.

 

Arthur could do nothing but gape as the count dropped to the ground from the mortal blow.  Magic.  That was _magic_.  But why would Jaxom…

 

It was then he made the mistake of looking down.  Timing really was a curse.  Another few seconds and he wouldn’t have seen.  Might have questioned, perhaps wondered on a sleepless night, but he never would have had such undeniable proof.

 

Merlin’s eyes slowly faded from gold as they stared at each other, his arm slowly lowering.

 

“You did that.”

 

Arthur couldn’t help but stare in betrayed horror as he looked at the servant –the _sorcerer_.  He snatched the mirror off the table.

 

“Arthur, please, I can explain.”

 

“Explain _what_ , exactly?”  Arthur cursed his voice as it cracked without his permission.  This couldn’t be happening.  “How you _lied_ to me?  How you were living right here under my nose all this time, hoping what?  To steal my throne?  Are you working for Morgana?”

 

“What?  No!”  Merlin sobbed, stepping as close as his confines would allow.  Arthur wished it were farther.  “I would never, you know I wouldn’t!”

 

“I don’t know anything about you,” he snapped coldly, feeling a vice squeeze around his heart at the knowledge.  “You’ve made that much quite obvious.”  Enlightenment hit him.  “This is why you wanted to stop this, this _thing_ between us.  You knew you couldn’t keep up your pretence of being a just normal citizen if I took a closer look.  It wasn’t about Guinevere or even me, it was selfish fear for _yourself_.”

 

“Please, Arthur, I only wanted to protect you.”

 

“I don’t need a _sorcerer_ to protect me.  Obviously the world agrees,” he sneered cruelly.  The tiniest part of him hated himself for the words spewing from his mouth, but he smashed that part back.  Merlin didn’t deserve his guilt after this.  Merlin didn’t deserve anything.  “Jaxom’s dead, yet here you are, still stuck in your little glass prison.”

 

“It-it wasn’t him who cast it then.  It must have been his daughter.  Or Morgana, or Agravaine-”

 

He barked a startled laugh.  “ _Agravaine_?  You really will try to blame anyone you can to save your own skin.  Too bad it’s too late for that.  _Sorcerer_.”

 

“No, Arthur, _please_ -”

 

Arthur couldn’t bear the pleading.  He tossed the mirror down on the table, then picked up his chair and hurled it across the room.  The wood made a very satisfying smash against wall, splintering into several pieces, but his rage, his agonising _hurt_ , was not even close to assuaged.  Next went his plate, remains of his dinner flying everywhere, then the wine jug, red liquid mixing with red of the count’s pooling blood.  It wasn’t until the table was empty and his floor was covered in shards that Arthur realized the item he had last held in his hands.

 

The blood drained from Arthur face, and possibly his entire body.

 

“No,” he whispered.

                                                                                     

Arthur dropped to his knees, ignoring the carnage he had created.  With shaking hands he picked up the frame of his little hand mirror.  Long jagged cracks ran across the shards of glass that still clung to the edges.  The rest covered the floor in bits and pieces.

 

When Arthur looked in it, all he saw was himself.

 

“Merlin?  Merlin, come back.”  There was no response, no bright, blue-eyed smiling face.  “No, please.  Merlin.  _Merlin_!”

 

He shook the frame in frustration, but that only succeeded in jarring loose a few more shards.  Sobbing, Arthur cradled the frame to his chest, as if to protect it even though the damage was already done and over.

 

Leon found him there minutes later when he threw the door open.  “Sire, a maid reported-” He froze as he took in the scene, Arthur rocking himself on the floor of his chambers, surrounded by debris and the dead body of the count.  “Sire, what happened?”

 

“I killed him.  I _killed_ him.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Gaius eventually made him take a potion for his anxiety.

 

His _anxiety_ , he called it.  His complete and utter guilt and despair at having killed the best thing to ever happen to him, Arthur called it.  He killed Merlin.  He _killed Merlin_.  He had known what would happen should the mirror break.  Yet he had done it anyway, tossing the mirror across the room in a fit of temper over something ridiculous.

 

Merlin had saved his life.  Even knowing Arthur would see and hate him for it, Merlin had saved him.  And how had Arthur repaid his deed?  He had condemned him, then carried out his sentence without allowing a trial or even a reasonable chance at an explanation.  He was a disgrace to his station.  What kind of king repaid that kind of debt with murder?

 

Leon had taken control of the situation once he had deemed Arthur in too much shock to do so himself.  He had immediately called for guards to take away the body, servants to clean up the mess, and Gaius to take care of the king.  Arthur refused to say anything more while Leon was in the room, and could only babble apologies to the physician.

 

“You don’t know he’s gone, sire,” Gaius tried to reassure him, though he, too, looked broken hearted.  Arthur hadn’t been able to bring himself to admit he had been the one to do this to Merlin yet.  Gaius had just assumed it was an accident of the scuffle.  “There are many mirrors in the castle.  It’s possible the destruction of his main portal merely transferred him to another vessel.”

 

Arthur knew it was a long shot, especially after their experiments back in the beginning, but it hadn’t stopped him from investigating every mirror in the castle, bursting into rooms like a man possessed, only offering the most rudimentary of apologies for the owners.  Merlin was not found in any of them, from the largest free standing mirror to the tiniest pocket one.

 

 _Please, Merlin.  You have to be somewhere_ , he’d begged.  But Merlin had not listened to his silent pleas, remaining unfound.

 

Of course, Arthur could receive no quarter after what he had done, nor did he believe he should have.  An hour into his search –he had to keep stopping so he could hide and get a grip on himself –Gwaine came charging up to him.

 

“Leon just told me he found you in your chambers with that count dead on your floor.  He said you were _crying_.  I know you, princess; I know you hated that guy.  You wouldn’t waste a teardrop from a flood on him.  _What happened?_ ”

 

Arthur didn’t have to say anything to answer that.  He knew he looked a mess.  The few people who had braved his wrath enough to come near him had given him odd glances, clearly confused by their king’s dishevelled state.  He didn’t care.  None of it mattered now.  Let them talk, wondering if the betrayal of the count was the one to break his spirit.  They couldn’t be further from the truth, but so long as no one besmirched Merlin’s name, they could wonder whatever they wished.

 

“Where’s Merlin?”  Gwaine demanded, quickly noting what was missing from the picture.  “Sire, _where is Merlin_?”

 

Arthur just shook his head.  “He… he’s gone.”

 

“I thought you said he was safe!” Gwaine exploded, slamming his fist into the wall, not even wincing as the skin broke on his knuckles.  “How could you let this happen?  Who was it?  Did that count try to take him?  Is he working for Morgana?  That’s why you killed him, isn’t it.  But then how- We have to go after him.  We’ll find him, Arthur, I swear it.”

 

“No, Gwaine,” Arthur said softly.  He couldn’t meet his knight’s eyes.  “He’s _gone_.”

 

It took a moment for Arthur’s words to sink in, then Gwaine staggered back.  “ _Gone_?  As in _gone?_ ”  Arthur nodded solemnly.  “No… he can’t be.

 

“I- I didn’t-”

 

Gwaine laid a hand on his shoulder, his own eyes sparklingly with tears.  “Don’t blame yourself, sire.  Merlin wouldn’t.  Blame the rotten scoundrel who did this to him.  We’ll avenge him, you have my word.  I’ll get the others, and we will hunt him down.  We won’t let them get away with this.”

 

He meant to tell the truth, really he did, but fear kept Arthur silent.  What good would it do for Gwaine to know it was Arthur who had done this?  Gwaine couldn’t punish him like he would want to, like Arthur _deserved_.  He would only be forced to spend his days seething that his best friend’s murderer was someone he could never truly punish.  Arthur’s guilt was enough of a burden right now without bearing Gwaine’s as well.  Later, when the numbness wore off, he might let something slip, perhaps not about Merlin, but just a little something to goad the knight into a punch.  And if this happened to occur a few times a month, a week, well, it was Arthur’s fault for provoking it, wasn’t it?

 

“As soon as I have something for you to go on, I’ll let you know,” he mumbled, and hurried away before the truth came pouring out.

 

From mirrors Arthur moved on to checking every moderately reflective surface he could find, causing the servants busily scrubbing away at the night’s pots to squeak and dither as he ransacked the kitchen.  The armoury was a treasure trove of shine, but not one helmet held behind it the face he would give anything to see.

 

Finally he gave in and did the only thing left he could think of.  At some point in his search the guards had informed him of Millicent’s capture.  The girl swore she had no idea what her father had planned, but she had been locked up anyway, to be tried for treason in the morning.  Arthur didn’t need a trial to know her guilt.  Merlin’s curse hadn’t been broken when Jaxom died, which meant that she had to be the castor.  She had to know how to fix this.  Arthur would get her to save Merlin if it was the last thing he did.

 

Millicent leapt to her feet when she saw him approach.  “Sire, I swear, I didn’t-”

 

“Be quiet, girl,” he snapped.  “I have no patience for your snivelling.”  With a flick of his wrist Arthur sent the guards away.  He wanted no witnesses to their conversation.

 

Millicent stood meekly after the chastisement, the very image of an innocent child.  Once upon a time perhaps Arthur would have believed the act.  But he had learned much of betrayal over the years.  Guinevere had taught him even the quietest of women could hold a treacherous soul, and Morgana had shown him how conniving a seemingly cowed girl could be.  And Merlin had…  He shook his head.  That didn’t matter now.

 

It had never mattered.

 

“What did you do, you vile sorceress?  How do I undo it?”

 

“Please, sire, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t know what my father was going to do; he told me nothing!”

 

“You cannot fool me.  I _saw_ him.  Your curse backfired.  Merlin appeared in _my_ mirror.  You underestimated your skills.  Merlin is _mine_ , and your magic well knew it.”

 

“Merlin?  Sire, I don’t-”

 

“How do I get him back?” Arthur demanded, slamming a fist into the bars.  Millicent squeaked and jumped backward.  “Damn you, rescind your curse this instant, and perhaps I make your death a quick one.”

 

“I didn’t cast any curse!” she protested weakly.  “I’m no sorceress.  Nor was my mother, she was just a simple druid.”

 

“And Merlin had no part in her death.  He didn’t deserve to be punished for it.”

 

“I swear, I never hurt your servant.  I only met him the once!  Please, if I knew how to do as you asked, I would!”  The girl dropped to her knees and sobbed into her hands.

 

Arthur watched the spectacle with contempt.  “You will be hung at dawn.  Then your curse will be lifted even without your confession.”  He made to leave, then turned back with a sneer.  “You know, I have seen before that for the more slender of victims, the hangman’s noose does not kill immediately, leaving you to suffocate, _slowly_.”

 

He stormed away, ignoring the girl’s wails.

 

Lost, anger at the world quickly slipping away as the fear that even killing the sorceress wouldn’t solve anything now that the damage had already been done, Arthur found himself collapsing in Gaius’s quarter.  The physician did what he could to console him, but it was a losing battle when both of them were devastated.

 

“Gaius, I have to tell you something,” Arthur whispered finally.  He took a deep, shaky breath.  “The mirror, M-Merlin’s mirror.  It wasn’t an accident.  Jaxom didn’t do anything, not to him.  I did it.  I killed Merlin.  And I did it on purpose.  I wanted him to hurt.  He’s…” Arthur swallowed, nearly choking on the lump in his throat.  “Merlin’s a sorcerer, Gaius.  He has magic.”

 

“Oh, Arthur.”  Gaius didn’t look surprised, just sad.  Arthur wasn’t surprised either to be honest, not really.  Deep down he’d known Gaius must have an idea at least.  “I know it’s too late to change what’s happened, what’s done is done, but you must understand, sire, Merlin was completely loyal to you.  Please don’t cast aside his memory as nothing but a traitor.  He only ever-”

 

“Gaius.”  Arthur held up a shaking hand to still the old man’s words.  “Gaius, I don’t need you to list Merlin’s virtues for me.  You don’t need to convince me Merlin was a friend.  I already know that.  That’s why… that’s why I will never forgive myself for what I have done.  I never even gave him a _chance._   If I hadn’t… I should have…”

 

Gaius let him cry, finally insisting he get some rest.  When Arthur rewarded the suggestion with an incredulous laugh that bordered on hysterics, that was when the physician handed over the potion.

 

“Take this, sire.  It will sooth your anxieties and help you to sleep.”

 

Arthur had downed the entire bottle, but still he lay awake on his bed, cradling the small mirror frame to his chest, ignoring the tiny slivers of glass that embedded themselves in his fingertips when he ran his fingers over them, pleading softly for Merlin to show himself.

 

 _She made her bed, and now she must lie in it.  As must all who dabble in sorcery_.  Oh gods, of course Merlin had been trying to pick a fight with him earlier.  He’d just heard Arthur condemn his entire kind.  Arthur, too, would have gone into self-preservation mode, pushing away any who might be able to harm him the way Arthur could.  The way he had. 

 

“I’m so sorry, Merlin.  I love you.  No matter what you are, or what you can do.  Please don’t be dead.  Come back to me.  I love you.”

 

He whispered it over and over until his despair gave way to exhaustion, his eyes slipping closed despite his desire to punish himself by staying awake forever.  At least his subconscious didn’t seem to be conspiring against him.  His dreams were haunted by visions of Merlin begging him to forgive him, Arthur turning away from him time and again, condemning him to the pyre, to the chopping block, to the noose.  Arthur served as executioner at each death, laughing as Merlin pleaded with him to stop, screaming in agony until he took his last breath, then the process began all over again.

 

He awoke trembling and covered in sweat, a scream on his lips, tears on his cheeks.

 

“Arthur?  Arthur, what’s wrong?  What happened?  What am I doing here?”

 

Arthur froze, waiting for the death sentence that signalled he was in another nightmare.  He knew it had to be, much as he prayed that just once, it could be real.  Slowly, not wanting to ruin the illusion that perhaps this cycle everything would be okay, he turned his head.

 

Blue eyes stared back at him, filled with worry and confusion.  A deep red flush stained Merlin’s cheeks, and he squirmed backward a bit, corners of his mouth tugged downward, not in distaste, but uncertainty.  Arthur couldn’t help but smile sappily, wanting to kiss that frown away.  This dream was so much clearer than the others, no fuzzy edge to the gorgeous picture before him.

 

“Arthur… why exactly am I in your bed?”

 

Arthur reached out to stroke his servant’s cheek, grinning wider at the warmth of the soft skin under his fingers.  He hadn’t ever been able to touch Merlin in his dreams before, not any of them, nightmare or otherwise, except for the brush against his neck as he tied the noose.  And always then Merlin would be cold as ice.

 

His heart beat faster.  It wasn’t possible, but maybe, just maybe this time…

 

“Are you real?” he whispered.

 

Merlin’s brow furrowed deeper as his confusion grew.  “Of course I’m real.  Now would you please tell me how I-”

 

Arthur rolled over and plastered himself on top of Merlin, covering his mouth in a deep kiss, rejoicing in the soft, pliable heat of his lips.  It was _real_ , so wonderfully _real_.

 

Merlin broke away and smiled bemusedly.  “You know, I changed my mind.  I don’t really care.”  With that he threaded his fingers in Arthur’s hair and tugged him back down again, kissing him until they were both breathless.

 

When the sound of people walking by finally made them pull apart, Merlin reached up to brush the fringe out of Arthur’s eyes and frowned again.  “Accepting as I’m becoming of my side of this, Arthur, what’s wrong with you?   You look terrible.”

 

Arthur couldn’t hold eye contract, not with the concern in Merlin’s face.  He rolled away, sitting up and stumbled out of bed.  Merlin’s eyes widened in alarm.  “Did I, did I do something wrong?  Did something happen last night?  I swear, Arthur, I don’t even remember doing it!”

 

He wanted to reassure Merlin, to promise that he’d done nothing wrong, but the words stuck in his throat.

 

Merlin slipped of the bed, head down, and backed towards the door.  “Look, I’m sorry, Arthur.  Whatever I did, I’m sure it was inexcusable.  I’ll just… go.”

 

“No, Merlin, don’t.”  Arthur stepped forward, reaching out to him, then stopped, clenching his fingers into a fist and pulling away.  “It wasn’t… It’s not your fault.  I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

 

“Why?  What did you do?”

 

“You really don’t remember anything?”

 

“Nothing.”  Merlin folded his arms over his chest defensively.  “One minute I’m lying down in my bed, the next I’m waking up in yours.”

 

Arthur took a deep breath.  So he was still to be punished.  He took heart that if Merlin was to hate him forever, at least he was alive to do it.  “Please understand that I’m so sorry.  I regretted it instantly.  I just got so _angry_ , and I was hurt, and for that one brief moment, I wanted to hurt you in turn.”

 

“Arthur…” Merlin asks quietly, “what did you do?”

 

The story unwinds slowly, his upset at Merlin not waking him in the morning to finding out he was missing.  The discovery of him in the large mirror and their attempts to figure out what was going on and how to get him out.  Jaxom and Millicent and their betrayal.

 

He doesn’t mention their night together, the fire that had burned through him as he realized this was what he had been missing all along.  If Merlin never wanted to see him again at the end of this, Arthur couldn’t put guilt on him to stay.  It was his turn to make a choice here.  Arthur had already made his, even if it was far from the choice he wanted.

 

“When Jaxom attacked, you saved my life.  If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t be here.  I can’t thank you enough for that, Merlin.”

 

“I’ll always save you.”  Poor Merlin didn’t look any less confused than he had in the beginning, though a bit of fear flashed through his face as his brain seemed to fill in the gaps about exactly _how_ he might have saved his king.

 

Arthur held his hands out in a gesture of peace, not daring come any closer for fear of scaring him off.  “You used magic to freeze everything, just long enough to stop me from being skewered.  Then you threw my knife at his heart.  You used magic.”

 

“Arthur, I can explain-”

 

“You already explained, Merlin.  I may not have listened last time, but I understand now.  I don’t need –I don’t _want_ you to beg for forgiveness, because I’m the one who should be begging you.  When I found out about your magic I smashed your mirror, knowing it might kill you.  I’m sorry, Merlin.   If you want to leave, I’ll understand.”

 

Merlin stood silent for several long moments, leaving Arthur with his heart pounding in his chest.  He knew he didn’t deserve forgiveness, but he also had no idea what he would do if Merlin walked away.  Now that he knew Merlin had once loved him back, he would never stop wondering what their life could have been like if it hadn’t been for his terrible, horrific mistake.

 

 _Please don’t go_.

 

“I’ve been waiting for over five years to tell you about my magic,” Merlin said finally.  “I’ve wondered over and over how you’d react.  I’ve imagined you having me killed, banishing me, hating me.  Sometimes I wondered if it would be okay, if you’d ever accept me.  I wanted that so badly.  I’ve always wanted nothing more than for you to love me for all that I am.”

 

“I _do_ , Merlin-”

 

“I have to say, though, I never thought I’d end up with it both ways, with you killing me _and_ loving me.”  Merlin gave a huffed chuckle and took a step forward.  “You know that you can trust me never to turn against you, that I’ll always use my skills for you and the good of Camelot, despite the fact you watched me use them to kill a man.”  He took another few steps forward, coming toe to toe with Arthur, who didn’t dare move a muscle.  “So I suppose I should extend you the same.  I should trust that you will never hurt me, despite your admission that you reacted in anger when you first found out.”

 

Merlin reached a hand up behind Arthur’s neck, inclining his head forward until their foreheads touched.  “We’ll trust each other, no matter what.  No more secrets.”

 

“No more secrets,” Arthur agreed, and allowed Merlin to bring their lips together in a searching kiss, until all their secrets were gone.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“I don’t need Gaius to check me out.  I’m fine.”

 

“You were stuck in a mirror for nearly two whole days, Merlin.  A _mirror._   I’m fairly certain the human body does not come naturally equipped to handle that kind of thing.”

 

“And I’m fairly certain you just gave me a rather thorough examination,” Merlin purred into his ear.  “ _Sire._ ”

 

Arthur let himself be drawn into another tantalizing kiss as Merlin attempted to steer him back towards the bed.  As the edge hit the back of his legs, his senses returned to him and he pushed Merlin –gently– away.  “I want you examined, Merlin.  We have no idea how you even escaped, let alone if there’s any lasting damage.”

 

“I thought we agreed you smashing the mirror is how I got out.”

 

“That’s one possibility.  But we won’t know for sure until we _see Gaius_.”

 

Merlin sighed petulantly.  “Fine.  But I expect to be rewarded for my good behaviour.”

 

“First you would have to exhibit some, idiot.”

 

Eventually Merlin did allow himself to be dragged to the physician’s quarters.  The dragging was almost literally, and that worried Arthur.  Merlin had definitely been more fatigued since he was un-cursed, and Arthur meant it to be one of the first things he mentioned to Gaius.  Privately he really did fear that he had damaged Merlin irreparably with his rash actions.  Only when Merlin was given a clean bill of health would he breathe easy.

 

They didn’t make it to Gaius’s though, before Merlin was accosted and tackled to the ground.

 

Arthur automatically made to lunge at his lover’s attacker, but just before he managed it he recognized the long mop of brown hair belonging to Gwaine.  The rogue knight smacked loud, wet kisses along Merlin’s face, ruffling his hair and laughing “We thought you were dead!”

 

“Get off me you great lump,” Merlin chuckled, shoving ineffectually at him.  Arthur held back and watched, fighting the rising clench of jealousy in his chest.  Eventually Gwaine rolled off the flattened servant, giving him a hand up then using his grip to pull Merlin into a tight hug, accompanied by slaps on the back by the other knights, who at least had the sense to reign in their joy at seeing their friend alive and well to a more reasonable level.

 

“Arthur told us you’d been killed!”  Gwaine insisted again when he finally let go.  “What happened?”

 

“Let’s just say a life in glass is more fragile than you think.”

 

“But how did you get in a mirror in the first place, Merlin?”  Elyan asked.  “Gwaine told us he saw you, but forgive our scepticism.”

 

“Honestly, I don’t know myself.  If I ever figure it out you’ll be the first to know.”

 

“And by that he means _I’ll_ be the first to know,” Arthur interrupted, stepping forward and drawing Merlin away, back towards him.  “If you don’t mind, gentlemen, we have a physician to see.  Merlin has been through a rough few days.”

 

“Of course, mate.  You’ll have to come tell us all about it once your old man has given you the all clear.  We’ve been worried sick.  Princess here wouldn’t give us the time of day.”

 

“Oh I’ll give you a time.  It’s time for nosy knights to be on the training field.  Or perhaps you’d appreciate double patrol instead?”

 

Gwaine threw up his hands in defeat.  “All right, all right, we’ll let you go!”  He waggled his eyebrows and winked knowingly at Merlin.  “But I still expect all the details later.  _All_ of them.”

 

The knights laughed in a sea of laughter, leaving Arthur stewing and Merlin blushing fiercely.  “You think they know we slept together?”

 

Arthur rolled his eyes and tugged Merlin in the direction of the physician once more.  “I’m fairly certain they think we’ve been sleeping together since day one.”

 

Gaius clutched his heart in shock when Merlin entered, running over as fast as his old legs would carry him to embrace his ward tightly.  “Oh, my boy!  Must you set some kind of record for how many times you kill me with worry?”

 

“Sorry, Gaius,” he muttered into his guardian’s shoulder.

 

Gaius held him at arm’s length then, assessing him with a critical eye.  “Are you feeling any different?  Nausea, headache, abnormal vision?”

 

“He’s been more tired than usual,” Arthur pointed out immediately.

 

“Tattletale.”  Merlin stuck his tongue out petulantly.

 

“I see your sense of humour is still intact.  Let’s make sure the rest of you is, too.”

 

Gaius gave him a methodical inspection.  When he found the deep purple bite mark on Merlin’s neck the two men flushed, but thankfully Gaius merely raised an eyebrow and remained silent.  Arthur had a terrible feeling Merlin was in for a lecture later, however, about the dangers of buggering the king.

 

It wasn’t like they didn’t know the dangers already.  That was a talk he and Merlin were still going to need to have in detail for themselves.

 

“I can’t find anything immediately wrong with you.  I’d say you’re suffering from simple exhaustion.  The effect of the curse upon you is bounding to be draining.  I’ll give you something to help you sleep, but I expect you should be fine by tomorrow morning.”

 

The door of the physician’s quarter went flying open.  “Sire,” Leon panted, obviously having run the whole way there.  “I need to speak with you immediately.”

 

Arthur nodded to Merlin to stay with Gaius and went.  Leon didn’t make him go far, though, stopping just in the corridor.  “The prisoner has escaped.”

 

Arthur frowned.  “What prisoner?  Wait, Lady Millicent?  She was supposed to be executed this morning.”

 

“The execution was moved to the afternoon, supposedly by your order.  The guards just went to fetch her from her cell, and she was gone.  I have everyone on the search for her, but there’s no telling when she escaped.  No one bothered to check on her until just now.  But she had to have help.  She knows nothing about the citadel, not enough to escape on her own without being seen.”

 

“The traitor,” Arthur ground out.  He could only be grateful that in the end Millicent and her mysterious ally hadn’t succeeded in taking Merlin from him forever.  “Let her run, the coward.  But put word out that if she’s found, she is to be brought back here for her punishment.  I want to see her hung myself.”

 

“Yes, sire.”  Leon hurried away.

 

Arthur turned to go back in to the physician’s chambers, pausing at the sound of hushed voices coming through the not quite closed door.

 

“Merlin, my research was scarce, but all the sources agreed.  To cast a spell such as this the sorcerer in question would have to be strong indeed.  I don’t believe young Lady Millicent harboured that kind of power.”

 

“Nor do I.  But if what you say is true, then the only ones who would be strong enough would be myself and Morgana.  What could Morgana wish to gain from something like this?”

 

“That I cannot say.  On the other hand, what did _you_ have to gain from it?”

 

Merlin sputtered.  “Me?  What are you getting at, Gaius?”

 

“You appeared in the mirror in Arthur’s rooms.  Arthur was the only one who had the ability to independently see or hear you.  All others had to go through him if they wished to have contact with you.  You returned only after Arthur discovered and accepted your magic.  Forgive me if I find a bit of a pattern in that.”

 

“You’re being ridiculous.  Why would I choose to do something like this?  If I really wanted Arthur to know, wouldn’t it have been easier to just tell him?”

 

“Perhaps you weren’t the one who wanted it most.  Your magic has always performed in strange and spectacular ways, Merlin.  It may be that in this case it was acting on your behalf to achieve your deepest desires.”

 

Arthur oddly liked the sound of that, that Merlin’s magic wanted so badly for Arthur to know about him.  It thrilled him that deep down Merlin trusted him enough to truly yearn to tell him the truth, even if Arthur didn’t reward that trust in the best way at first.  His magic protected him from that reaction, because it knew, it just knew that Arthur would want it back, want Merlin back.

 

“Arthur said you used magic to save him while you were trapped, no?”

 

“Apparently.”

  
“By all accounts, that shouldn’t have been possible in and of itself.  My guess is you could only do so because the purpose was to protect him.”

 

 _Only for me, just like you promised._ Arthur strode happily into the room despite the news he had just received from Leon.  There he took Merlin’s head in his hands and kissed him on the forehead, ignoring Gaius’s uncomfortable clearings of his throat.  “If you might excuse us, Gaius, I believe you said Merlin needed some rest?  I shall see to it he does not attempt to leave the bed.”

 

Merlin flushed crimson, and Arthur just laughed at the combined horror on his and Gaius’s faces as he pulled him away and back to his chambers.

 

Merlin let himself be pressed back onto the bed and stripped of his outer clothes, cuddling into Arthur’s warmth.  “What was it Leon wanted that was so urgent?”

 

“Lady Millicent escaped.  Seems we have a runaway bride.”

 

Merlin didn’t laugh at his joke.  He stiffened and tried to pull away, but Arthur held him tight.  Instead Merlin settled for flipping over so they were chest to chest, looking him in the eye, his expression sad.

 

“Nothing’s changed,” he murmured.  “You’ll still have to marry some princess.  Or you could take Gwen back.  She’ll make an amazing queen.”

 

Arthur took Merlin’s face in his hands, smoothing his thumb across his cheek.  “Merlin.  Yes, I may very well have to marry one day, to have a child and assure the Pendragon line continues.  But no one will ever take your place in my heart.  I will never love them the way I do you, understand?”

 

Merlin smiled, and for some reason he blushed and buried his face in Arthur’s chest.  Arthur didn’t understand what he’d said wrong until he heard a mumbled, “I love you too, dollophead.”

 

Arthur felt his heart burst and he had to laugh as the joy spilled out of him.  He dragged Merlin back up for a long, languid kiss before allowing him to fall asleep in his arms.  He carded his fingers through Merlin’s hair, just watching him breathe in and out.

 

If he had the choice, he would look at this man forever.

 

 

 


End file.
